The Ghost and Captain Gregg
by gammlover
Summary: By Mary And Amanda. A Turnabout story. What if Carolyn was the Ghost of Gull Cottage and Captain Daniel Gregg was the widowed writer? Please R & R.
1. Chapter 1

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**This is a "What If?" story. What if the major GAMM roles were reversed and Carolyn Muir was the ghost and Captain Daniel Gregg was the widowed writer? Other canon characters, most notably Martha, Candy, Jonathan, Scruffy and Claymore are here — shuffled and rearranged a bit, and you may trip across a few other familiar names, but they will be different also from their namesakes in another GAMM universe of which these writers are very fond.**_

_**Thank you, and on with the show.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

Mary and Amanda

Chapter One

**August, 1968**

The overly tidy, spacious room felt terribly cramped as Captain Daniel Gregg prepared to broach the subject about which he had called the meeting with his late wife's parents, Ralph and Marjorie Darlig.

"We're glad you came over today," Ralph said with forced geniality. "The applications for Dexter and Mary Meredith's Academy for Young Ladies came today. All we need is your John Hancock, and then Jonathan and Candace will be able to start school right after Labor Day."

Clearing his throat, Daniel drew himself up straight in his chair. "While that is — considerate of you to go to the trouble of getting the papers, Ralph, I won't be signing any of them." He did not add that he had never asked them to get the applications.

The older couple exchanged perplexed glances before looking back to their son-in-law. "What do you mean?" Marjorie asked.

"I will not be sending my children to boarding school," the Captain said firmly. "I do realize that it has been somewhat difficult for you to take care of them while I wrapped up things with the Navy, but now that I am officially, honorably retired, I will be parenting them full time. Furthermore..."

"Now see here, Daniel," Ralph began to sputter. "It's not that, at all. We simply want the children to have the best. Dexter is an excellent prep school, and Candace really needs some polishing... She's entirely too much of a tomboy. Mary Meredith did Melanie a world of good, and will do the same for her daughter."

"Candy has backbone, and I won't have some prissy finishing school take the spirit out of her, or a prep school doing that to Jonathan," Daniel snapped. "I am their father, and will be seeing to their education as well as anything else they need. I have already spoken with Martha Grant and she has agreed to come and help with the cooking and so forth."

"We — don't have an extra room for another servant," Marjorie blinked owlishly.

Daniel frowned to himself. He did not like the tone with which she said 'servant.' However, he concealed his negative reaction and went on with his purpose. "That is just fine. You see, we will not be living with you. I have taken out a lease, with an option to buy, on a cottage in Maine." Now came the hard part. This deal had been in the works for several weeks and Miss Grant had been helping him get everything ready. "The children, Martha, and I will be moving within the next week — two weeks, at most."

"What?" the Darligs exclaimed.

"You can't just uproot them like this! They've undergone so many shocks and changes. They just lost their mother!" Ralph fumed.

"It has been a year," Daniel corrected him. "I lost my wife, too, you know, and my career. I have undergone _just as many_ shocks and changes. We need a fresh start, and that is what we are going to have." He could see his in-laws forming a dozen counter arguments, so he rose. "That is my final word on the matter. I hope we can part on amicable terms. You are, after all, the only grandparents my children know." He extended his hand to Ralph, forcing the older man to take it or be impolite, kissed Marjorie's cheek, and took his leave.

As he walked out to his car, Daniel mused that the battle for which had been awarded his Purple Heart, had not been as trying as that encounter.

XXX

Daniel Gregg pulled onto Oxford Drive and then onto the thin strip of concrete that constituted his driveway in front of the small rental house that had been home to his children, housekeeper, and self for the past few weeks. After glancing in the metal mailbox, he inserted his key and started to open the door, but before he could, it swung open to reveal the older woman who had evolved into his right-hand lately.

Martha Grant greeted him with a highball and a lifted eyebrow.

"Well, Captain? How did the battle go?"

Taking the offered drink, he stepped inside, shrugging off his light coat.

"Not quite as badly as I thought it would," he answered, hanging the coat inside the hall closet. "But somehow, knowing Ralph, I have a feeling the battle has only just begun. They weren't happy at all."

Martha stepped back. "I can't say as I blame them; I'd hate to lose two good kids like Candy and Jonathan, too."

He took a sip of the drink as he assessed the future, only half-listening to her comment. "That didn't really qualify as a battle, simply a minor sally. The fight's only begun, if I read things correctly. We may be in for a war. I hope you're ready, Martha." Shaking off the grim mood, he deliberately lightened his tone to ask, "Anything happen while I was gone?"

The housekeeper shrugged. "Well, it sort of depends on how you look at it... kind of."

"What the devil does that mean?"

"You won't like it, but it really wasn't the children's fault... more a series of unfortunate events..."

"Martha..."

"Scruffy got on a tear and stole Jonathan's tennis shoe. He wanted to romp. Jonathan took off after him, then Candy started running after both of them, and they bumped into that little table in the hall and knocked it over."

"Is the table damaged?" The Captain looked alarmed. "It was a favorite of Melanie's."

"No, the table is fine, but the vase displayed on it was smashed beyond repair." She sighed. "I saved the pieces so you can see, but I am afraid it is hopeless. I told you that this house was too small for a dog."

"Aye, it is. But the children need a playmate, and until I could wrap up my affairs with the Navy and secure the house, I felt it essential that they have some companion besides each other. Where are they now?"

"I didn't punish them. As I said, it was not their fault. It was just an accident and I'm more glad that they were not cut on the shards than upset about a vase."

"Of course," the Captain nodded. "But where ARE the children?"

"I didn't send them to their room. They just went there. Both looked scared that you'd be angry."

Recalling the plethora of probably at least slightly valuable knickknacks artfully displayed at their grandparents' house, he had a feeling he knew why they were so frightened. _Blast it. _"I will go reassure them."

Outside the door to the bedroom, which was almost, but not quite closed, Daniel paused, hearing the sound of coins clinking and voices coming from within.

"Help me count it again, Jonathan," came the voice of his daughter, Candace. "We have to have more than a dollar and fifty cents, here."

"I don't think so, Can," her brother answered. "We spent some when we got the ice cream in the park the other day, remember?"

"Dad'll ground us for sure if we can't fix that vase," Candy mourned. "Why did you chase Scruffy? You should just let him have your shoe."

"He'd chew it up!" Jonathan protested. "Then I'd be in trouble anyway."

The girl shook her head in disgust and then brightened. "Maybe we could pay on lay-away? Like Grandfather did for his car and make payments every month until it's paid for?"

"How long d'ya think that'd be?"

Candy sighed. "Forever."

The Captain smiled, thinking of how many times his late Aunt Violet — his foster parent after his parents died, had punished him for doing similar things during the course of growing up. Removing his grin, the seaman tapped on the door lightly and waited for a moment, noting the scuffle coming from within, and the whispers of his son and daughter. As he tapped a second time, a small fearful voice asked quietly: "Who's there?"

"Candy? Jonathan? It's Dad."

"OUR Dad?" Jonathan answered, stalling to beat the band. There were more scuffles.

"Yes. May I come in, please?"

"Er — just a minute," Candy squeaked. "Hang on — er — please. Sir."

Daniel flinched. Being addressed as "Sir" was all very fine when he was a Captain, but the salutation didn't seem right coming from his children, unless something extreme was going on, and this did not qualify. He counted to ten, counted to ten again, and tapped on the door. "Children, I would like to come in now, if you don't mind."

"Uh... okay," came the wavering voices from the other side.

As he entered, two small figures snapped to attention from their places at the end of their respective beds.

"Hello, Sir!"

He frowned and studied their faces carefully. "Now what kind of greeting is this after my long day? Don't I get a "Hello, Dad," at least?"

Candy and Jonathan snuck a quick glance at each other, and then mumbled, "Hello, Dad... Hello, Dad."

Deciding it was best to get straight to the point and thus allay their worry; he smiled kindly and commented, "That's better. Sit down, please." When they were both settled on Jonathan's bed and he was faced opposite them on Candy's, he continued. "I heard there was something of an accident today?"

"Well, sorta," Candy gulped.

"It wasn't Scruffy's fault," Jonathan said. "He's just a puppy and not used to us... not yet. We'll train him to be good, if you'll let us keep him."

Daniel frowned again. "Of course you can keep him. He's a gift, from me to you, and it is not a gentlemanly thing at all to take back a gift." He was also fond of the little dust mop, but that was beside the point. "I simply said I heard there was an accident today, but you didn't let me get to my question."

"Oh. Sorry," Candy volunteered for them both. "We didn't mean to interrupt you."

Her father nodded. "My question is, was anyone, human or puppy, hurt?"

"No," they chorused.

"Good. That is all that is important." Seeing the doubt on their faces, he added, "It might be best to not mention to Cousin Hazel that the vase is beyond repair. If I had realized a dog would break the thing, I probably would have gotten you a pet years ago. Hazel's taste has always been somewhat suspect."

Candy's blue-green eyes grew wide, and her mouth tipped up at the corners. "You really aren't mad?"

"No... Not this time. Accidents happen, and I am very aware of that."

"We had more room and Grandma and Grandpa's house," Jonathan cut in. "This place is kinda little."

"But, we like it here, better, with just you and Martha," Candy said quickly. "Right, Jonathan?"

"Right," her brother agreed. "Besides, we couldn't have a dog if we lived there. Maybe we need to tie Scruffy to our bed when we aren't playing with him?"

"He wouldn't like it," Candy added, "But, he wouldn't run around so much and get us into trouble."

"You can still have the money from our allowance," Jonathan said bravely. "Or maybe we could go to Woolworth's and find you another vase?"

"I think that the vase was purchased somewhere slightly more upscale than Woolworth's," Daniel smirked. Certainly it had looked it, even if it was the most hideous looking monstrosity that he had ever seen. He stood up, slowly, still facing them. "If you are done in here, why don't you come into the living room and join Martha and me? I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Are we in trouble after all?" Candy asked, looking up at her tall father.

"No. What I want to talk about has nothing to do with Scruffy, or the vase."

"Oh — right."

"Shall we go now?" he continued, reaching down to lay a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Okay," Candy nodded, taking the lead.

XXX

When they had situated themselves on the lumpy piece of furniture that could barely qualify as a couch, the Captain began his speech. "I believe you just stated your awareness of the fact that our current residence is rather close quarters. As Martha has pointed out, it really is too small for a dog, and I would add much less for four people." He held up a hand, forestalling the tidal wave of arguments for keeping the animal. "I am not getting rid of Scruffy. Belay that idea. We are moving to a larger place, almost immediately. I have been in contact with a realtor, one Claymore Muir, who has managed to locate a place that meets with my approval. You will have your own beach, as a matter of fact, and the pictures of the house make it appear much more spacious than this place. It will not be a castle, but if we pull together, it can be a home."

"Our OWN beach?" Candy gasped. "Where? There's no place like that around here."

"Quite right. It's in Maine, in a little town called Schooner Bay."

"Maine?" Jonathan frowned. "That's not Philly. We're going to move? Leave everyone here?"

"Yes. That is what it means. But I am sure they will come visit us."

"In due time, but not too soon, I hope," Martha added, under her breath.

"Do I get to bring all my stuff?" Candy asked, "my snow globes, my rock collection, my books and..."

"And my ship models?" Jonathan interrupted her, "and my marbles and baseball cards, and my book about whales?"

"Of course!" the Captain answered, and looked surprised that they had even asked. "We will be bringing all of your things, to be sure. The new house comes furnished, so I imagine not much furniture will be coming with us — the table that hit the decks today, and my antique desk and chair, but the rest will stay here, I think. There would be no place for it where we are going. I have arranged for an estate salesman to handle that."

"Good," Candy said, giving the couch a thump. "But I don't think even poor people want this moth-eaten old thing. The springs are all broken. Do we each get our own room?"

"In time," Daniel smiled. "But for a while, I think you two will share quarters."

Jonathan made a face. "I hope it's bigger quarters than our bedroom now."

His father raised an eyebrow. "My understanding, from the dimensions I was given by Mr. Muir, your new room will be almost twice as big as the one you have now. It's an old house, and they built big rooms in those days. It was designed as a nursery, and..."

"NURSERY!" Candy cried. "We aren't babies!"

"Of course you aren't," Martha stepped in. "But, listen you two — after your father told me about the house, I started reading up on the area, and it's houses and people and things. In Victorian times, when the house was built, the nursery simply meant the room where children slept and/or lived. In theory, children could be occupying the 'nursery' until you are much older than you are now. It's just a word — like saying boyfriend. Even when you are all grown up, you can be called a BOYfriend."

Jonathan looked up at the housekeeper. "How long have you known about the house, Martha? You are coming with us, aren't you?"

"Only a few days, ago, and of course I am," the housekeeper grinned. "If I didn't come with you all, you'd starve."

"Okay, then," Candy nodded. "If we get a bigger room, and Martha is coming, I guess I will come, too."

"Me, three," said Jonathan, just as Scruffy barked.

"I believe that makes it unanimous," Daniel grinned. "Now, listen, mates, we have a lot of work to do between now and when we leave. Can I count on your help?"

"Us?" Candy asked, giving her father a startled look. "You want us to help you?"

Daniel nodded. "Of course I do. We're all in this together. I'm sorry if you don't like the idea, but you need to pack your own things. Decide what to keep and whatnot, and..."

Both children shook their heads and then Candy spoke again.

"No... We love it, Sir... Dad! We're all working as a team!" Excited, the two children enclosed their father and Martha in a group hug.

XXX

The next few days flew by as the little family packed and prepared for the move. Daniel had to take one day off from the task to meet with his lawyer. After cajoling and pleas fell on deaf ears, the Darligs had resorted to threatening to sue for custody of the children. The attorney had assured the Captain that they did not have a case and wished him good luck in his new life.

The day before the Gregg family was scheduled to take possession of Gull Cottage, a car that had seen better days and whose muffler was too badly in need of replacing to pull off the sneaking up to the place that its owner would have liked to accomplish, made its way to the house.

The lanky man, who got out of the car muttered under his breath repeatedly, _"She's not going to intimidate me. She's not going to scare me."_ The expression on his face said he was lying to himself as he opened the door to Gull Cottage.

"Mrs. Muir? Yoo-hoo?" he called out. For a moment, it seemed as if there would be no response, and for a moment, Claymore Muir dared hope that the bane of his miserable existence might have chosen to go off to the happy hunting grounds — or anywhere but there.

Suddenly, a lovely woman in old-fashioned clothes appeared right in front of him. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my house?" she demanded, giving him a mental shove. "Shoo. Go on. And don't come back."

Flinching, he resisted the push. "I — I came to tell you I've rented the place to a new family."

Carolyn Muir frowned momentarily, then crossed her arms and shrugged. "I can run them off just as easily as that spinster you tried to ensconce here three years ago."

"NO, you can't! I'm sick to death of you scaring off my clients! I—I'll have the place leveled!" Claymore fumed. "I have to do something to generate revenue from this place."

"You have no right to do _anything_ with it!" the specter snapped.

"YES, I do! I'm your legal heir!"

"You are not. This house was in my family for a generation before I married. The Muirs have NO right to it!" Carolyn yelled back. "Not a one of you miserable rats! Not you, nor any of your renters! Now, get out!" Her sentence was punctuated by a small gale blowing up from nowhere to push Claymore toward the door, with various small, heavy objects left behind by past renters hurtling at his head. As he pitched out onto the porch, the wind calmed and the door slammed shut. For a half second, he considered going back inside, but it only took a quiver of thunder to convince the lanky coward to turn tail and run back to the waiting automobile.

XXX

When he saw the majestic house appear on the horizon, Captain Gregg felt an immense relief. The long drive had been wearing; he had to admit, if only to himself. They pulled up to the stone fence and parked, Daniel musing that it was a good thing no other cars were around. Pulling a U-Haul trailer made parking the automobile feel somewhat like docking a battleship.

"We are home," he announced.

"It's big for a cottage," Candy commented.

"I'm sure we'll manage to fill it up," his dad smiled. "Let's start on the unpacking."

"Looks like something out of one of those gothic movies," Martha muttered. "Any second now, we'll hear _'Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderly again,'_ whispered on the breeze."

"Huh?" Jonathan asked as he pushed open the door to let Scruffy out.

"Just a book, Jonathan," Martha replied.

"Well, since I thought I might try some writing, this is the perfect atmosphere then," the Captain grinned. "Cheer up, Martha. We're having an adventure."

"We're also having company," she nodded, glancing in the rearview mirror, as an old car rattled up behind them. "I hope they don't want refreshments just yet."

"Maybe they brought some as a housewarming gift?" the Captain suggested. He paused to help Candy and Martha out of the car, then strolled back to meet the thin man hurrying toward them. "Ahoy, there."

"A-are you Captain Gregg?" the fellow asked edgily.

"Indeed I am," he nodded, and gestured toward Martha. "This is my housekeeper, and friend, Martha, and..." He glanced at his children who were now walking the top of the stone gate like a tightrope. "My children, Candace and Jonathan." Martha nodded and continued pulling items out of the car as and Candy and Jonathan jumped off the fence to stand near their father. "Would you by any chance be Mr. Muir?" Daniel continued, extending a hand.

Claymore blinked, adjusted his glasses, and reluctantly took it. "I — er — I made a mistake, Captain."

"Was the price wrong on the lease?" Daniel frowned. "I suppose, if it's not too much of an increase, I won't quibble, but it cannot be very great of one, or I will have to consult an attorney. We did have a deal, sir."

"It's not that," Claymore gulped. "I — I changed my mind. I can't lease this place. It's — erk — got sentimental value been in my family for more than a hundred years. Well, it's over a hundred years old, and my great-great-uncle married the owner ninety-odd years ago, and I do mean odd. I just can't do that."

"You should have thought of that sooner. As I said before, we had a deal, and you cannot go back on it now," the Captain responded, fixing him with a steely gaze that had terrified more than one ensign over the years.

Claymore flinched. _This guy was as scary as a ghost!_ "I — I brought your check." Then, because he hated to lose money almost as much as he loathed pain, he added, "But, we could, you know just apply it to the lease on another place. Keep all the same details on the agreement, except, of course, the address?"

"I read through all your other ads, and this is the place I prefer," Daniel said. "As I understand it, Gull Cottage has been listed for some time, so this spurt of family sentiment is somewhat hard to believe."

Claymore paled. "I — I was thinking of you all. Of the children your housekeeper. It's not safe out here."

"I was not aware that Schooner Bay had a high crime rate?" Daniel drawled, folding his arms over his chest. "Or was prone to earth tremors."

"Er — no, none of that. But — it's isolated. If anything happened, it'd take forever for anyone to know. And then there are the winds. It's very, very windy. The children could just blow away! We have small person advisories all the time! And the house has a lot wrong with it. I fudged a little in the description. You'll be living like pioneers in there. I just can't have that on my conscience."

"I think you should let me worry about such things," Daniel shook his head. "I do appreciate your interest, but I believe we'll be happy here. Trust me; compared to barracks, this is a palace." As he spoke, he began heading to the back of the car where he lifted out the first pieces of their luggage. "This place is exactly what I hoped it would be — I can see that already. But you're welcome to give us a hand getting stuff inside, if you're truly concerned."

"I'd love to, but I have a bad back, and you shouldn't go in there!" Claymore insisted. "Terrible things happen here. Just ask anyone in town. This place has a history."

"Silly superstitions," Daniel snorted. "Come along, troops. I'm ready to get to work." He held out his hand. "Mr. Muir?"

Claymore took his hand and shook it. "Well, welcome to Schooner Bay."

Captain Gregg rolled his eyes, shook the man's hand and then pulled away. "Thank you, but what I really need is the key."

"Key?" The landlord looked at him blankly.

"The keys to my house. We ARE staying."

"Oh... well..." Claymore drew a set of old-fashioned keys from his pocket, started to hand them to the seaman and then seemed to change his mind. "Well, if you are determined — and I STILL think you are going to change your mind — I better let you in. Show you around the place."

"Fine," the Captain nodded. "Candy, Jonathan, both of you, go get your personal suitcase from the back seat."

"Right, Sir," Jonathan saluted smartly.

"Belay the "Sir," and cast off," he added with a slight frown, then he reached into the car and handed Claymore a box. "You don't mind carrying this, do you? I don't believe in wasting manpower."

"Oof! Uh, no..." Claymore responded, taking it. "But I'll be carrying it out to the car again when you leave..."

"I'll be the judge of that," Daniel sniffed.

Suddenly Candy, who had been staring at the house, spoke up. "Maybe that lady up there can help us move in."

Claymore blinked, and seemed to cringe. "What lady?"

"Why, the lady up on the..." Candy started to point. "Hey! She's gone! There was a woman..."

"What woman?" Martha asked, joining them, holding Scruffy's leash in one hand and a bundle of linens in the other.

Candy shook her head slowly. "She... it's gone now, but I thought I saw a woman on the roof."

Daniel grinned. "The roof, sweetheart? Not likely."

"Well, not the ROOF, but up there." Candy pointed to the white-railed structure on the roof of the house. "On that platform thingie."

"That's a widow's-walk, my dear," Daniel smiled indulgently. "I'll explain its history later. But there's no one here but us. It must have been a trick of the light."

Candy shook her head. "I guess so."

Daniel gave a shrill whistle. "All right, mates! Everyone loaded? Forward, march!"

XXX

As they crossed the threshold, Candy asked, "Dad? May we go look at our room?"

The Captain glanced at the stairs. "I don't see why not. Go on, then. You might as well stow your gear and start making this place into a home. I imagine the nursery is upstairs, isn't it, Mr. Muir?"

"Right," the reedy man answered automatically, then began coughing in a fake manner. "You know, you shouldn't let them run around alone like that."

The Captain's face darkened. "In their own house?"

"Well, erhem. It's — it could be risky, you know." He coughed again as the children, heedless of his act, charged up the stairs with their bags. "And, this place is so musty and dusty. Damp. Mildewed."

"So, we'll air it out," Martha shrugged. "And, I'm a good cleaner."

"Air it out?" Claymore paled. "You mean open the windows?"

"That is how you get rid of mustiness, man," Daniel glared, pushing past him toward the kitchen. "The galley is in here, I take it?"

"Uh, yeah," Claymore answered. "It is a bit old-fashioned..."

"The HOUSE is old-fashioned," Daniel snapped back. "That's why I leased it. I didn't want modern, and I am done with ships for the time being."

"But nothing works," Claymore protested. "Nothing at all. I shouldn't have leased this place and..."

"But you did, and I'm handy," the Captain answered. "So don't worry. Besides, Martha can perform miracles in the kitchen. I have ultimate faith in her."

Martha blushed, but looked pleased. "Thanks, Captain, but for this kitchen you may need Martha WASHINGTON."

"Nonsense," Daniel remarked, putting down the box in his hands marked 'dishes.' "I believe I would like to see the rest of the house, now."

"You would..." Claymore muttered.

As they came back to the main hallway, they met Jonathan, who was now back downstairs and standing by the front door. "Scruffy won't come inside, Dad."

"He's just frightened of a new place," Daniel answered. "Pick him up and bring him inside. Where's your sister?"

"She's still upstairs."

"I suggest you join her while we inspect the living room."

"Okay." In a blink, the boy was gone.

Jonathan found Candy in the nursery. "Isn't this the greatest?" she said, enthusiastically. "We've got a window seat and there's even extra beds."

Jonathan craned his neck looking all around. "Yeah. We can put all our books on the shelves and still have room for my model ships."

"And maybe start a seashell collection," Candy said. "I bet the beach has a ton of cool ones." She looked from one side of the room to the other. "We may not have our own rooms, but this one's twice as big as our old room. Maybe bigger."

"Way bigger," her brother agreed. "It's better, too."

"Yeah." Candy opened the closet and stuck her head in, then turned to look back at her brother. Whatever comment she had been about to make was lost as she saw a woman perched on the window seat watching them.

"H-hello?" she gulped. Then, blinking, said, "You're the lady I saw on the roof!"

Jonathan spun around, his eyes growing huge. "How'd you get in here? Who are you?"

"I told you, Jonathan, she's the lady from the roof," Candy said.

"That doesn't tell me who."

"I'm Carolyn Muir, and you are in my house," the woman said.

"It's our house now," Jonathan stated. "Our daddy signed a lease and everything."

"He may have signed a lease," the woman said, "but it's not your house. It's mine. That louse down there had no right to rent out this place. Look. I don't have anything against you or your dad; I just don't want strangers cluttering up my home."

The kids exchanged looks, and then Jonathan frowned and asked, "What's a louse?"

Carolyn flushed. "It's a word I probably shouldn't have said in front of you and you shouldn't repeat, even if Claymore is one. It's not at all nice, and you can't use it about even not so nice people."

"You did."

"I did say I shouldn't have said it, did I not?" she retorted.

"How did you get in here without us seeing or hearing you?" Candy asked.

Carolyn shrugged elegantly. "I'm a spirit, as such I can—" She vanished and reappeared several feet away. "And I can do other things. There are benefits to being dead, but drawbacks too. No one listens to you unless you throw a tantrum, and maybe not then."

"Yeah," agreed Jonathan. "Grownups just tell you to act like a big boy — or girl," he added, looking at his sister.

"We'll listen to you," Candy said.

"That's very sweet," Carolyn smiled, and then remembered herself. "However, I do not want company. Now, please, run along and let me get back to my musing." She adopted a semi-fierce expression. "Of course, since you've all disturbed my rest, you might tidy things up down there. Tidy it a bit. The dust bunnies are terrible. And Claymore's renters usually leave in a terrible hurry and make a mess."

Feeling as if they had been dismissed, the two kids walked out.

"I like her," Candy whispered. "I don't think she's as grumpy as she wants us to think."

"I bet Dad'll be grumpy when we tell him what she said," Jonathan countered.

XXX

Meanwhile, downstairs as the children met their co-inhabitant, the adults had their own conversation.

"Now, the tour?" the Captain patiently prompted.

"You know, sir, dogs are supposed to have excellent instincts, so if your pup there doesn't like this place, you might want to think about listening to him. Sorta, I mean, if he could talk. If he could, it is a he, right? He'd say don't do it."

"Since HE is just a puppy, he has not had time to develop instincts," Daniel said dryly. "Now, I'm going to inspect this place. Please be kind enough to conduct the tour."

Shaking his head, Claymore began to lead the way to the living room. As they entered the still dark room, for a second, Daniel thought they had found Candy's lady. He beheld the image of a lovely woman coolly watching them come into her domain. Then, he blinked as the lights came on and he realized it had just been a painting. "What a vision," he breathed softly. "Who is she?"

"Ah, well, that's..."

"She's beautiful," Martha added.

"But who is she?" Daniel demanded. _I have to know who this woman is,_ his thoughts went on.

"Ah the original occupant of Gull Cottage..." Claymore started, and thunder boomed. "...OWNER!" he added hastily. "My great-great aunt — by marriage, that is... Carolyn Marie Williams Muir."

"She's a sight to behold," the seaman said softly. "Beautiful."

"Beautiful in looks, but not in actions," Claymore whispered, but the Captain didn't seem to hear him.

"Maybe she'd like a little sunlight," Martha said, throwing open the shutters. Doing so, she glanced around. "This room needs painting," she added. "Maybe yellow..." There was another boom of thunder. "Or maybe not..." she added.

"I think I would rather see the walls in sea green," said Daniel. "The color would highlight the portrait admirably."

Candy and Jonathan came back into the living room from upstairs and stared up at the painting, impassively.

"What do you think of her, children?" the Captain asked.

"I'll never be that pretty," Candy frowned.

"You already are," the Captain assured her; though he barely glanced at the girl so intent was he on studying the painting.

"She's not happy, though," Candy continued.

"Yeah. She wants us to leave," Jonathan nodded.

"She wants you to... uhm... erk..." Claymore quaked, and turned a sickly green.

"Now, now, I think she is quite hospitable looking," the sea captain said, glancing toward his children, and then back to the portrait. "She looks as if she is welcoming us... see those beautiful emerald eyes! I've never seen anything like them!" Then he glanced down at Candy and Jonathan and smiled, good-naturedly. "My dear ones, the lady in the portrait isn't alive anymore. She died a hundred years ago."

"Yeah, we know," Candy said.

"She told us," Jonathan added.

Martha and the Captain smiled indulgently and gave Claymore a look that was half-amused and half-apologetic.

"I encourage my children to use their imaginations," he said, almost daring the quivering squid to make any kind of depreciating comment toward his progeny.

"She wants to see the house clean and tidy with no dust bunnies!" Candy almost shouted, as she scampered off toward the front door.

"What?" This time, the seaman did look startled.

"That wind again..." Claymore tried. "The noises will keep you up all night..."

"Weird wind," Martha commented.

"Shall we inspect the upstairs?" Daniel asked.

With a shrug, Claymore led them toward the stairs, still protesting. "These stairs are unbearable. The upstairs should have been condemned years ago."

"They'll keep me fighting fit," Daniel declared. "And the children haven't complained yet."

"I think my room is down here," Martha snorted. "Off the kitchen. That's the way it usually works in these old houses."

The Captain and Martha stopped for breath at the top of the stairs — more for Claymore's benefit, than their own, and then they reached the first door. "Nursery, I take it?" The Captain asked, opening the door and stepping inside. Slowly he looked around the room.

"Yeah, I guess," Claymore replied dully. "I think, that is, if you don't take my well-meaning, wise advice and leave now, your kids will be the first ones to use it for one."

"She never had children?" Daniel asked.

"Nope," Claymore stuck his hands in his pockets.

"A shame," the mariner replied. "She looks like a woman who would love children... and you can see this room was designed and decorated with love, even in the state it is in. Look, Martha — there are both twin beds and a double-decker bunk — designed for either overnight guests, or more children, in time. Window seats! That will please Candy. She told me she was hoping the place would have some. Bookshelves... a fireplace..." He looked at the landlord sharply. "I hope THAT is more for ambiance, than warmth, Mr. Muir?"

"Oh, yes..." Claymore nodded. "Heating was installed some years ago — as you can see." He gestured toward the newer-looking radiator. "The furnace is in the cellar."

"Good." The seaman headed toward the door. "Now for the rest of the house."

The group entered the hallway once more, and the Captain's tall strides soon carried him down to the next doorway, and he reached for the doorknob.

"Wait a minute!" Claymore squawked. "You can't go in there!"

"Why ever not?"

"This was HER room!"

"Good. Now it can be MY room," he snapped. "It's the nearest to the children. It is the master bedroom, is it not?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then that's all there is to say about it." Carefully, he opened the door.

For a moment, Claymore stood frozen in horror as the tall man and older woman entered the room. Then, gathering his meager courage around himself, he scurried after them. "See, it's a — a very FEMALE room. You'd hate it in here."

"I've seen much worse," Daniel sighed, remembering the ornate bedroom he had shared with his wife in their former home in Philadelphia. Slowly his eyes went around the room. It was paneled in wood — dusty and dingy from years of neglect, but even the Captain's eyes could see what they needed most was soap, water and elbow grease, and the floor a bucket and swab. On one wall were a series of intricate built-in drawers and compartments and a bureau of Honduras mahogany. There were two chests at the far end of the room, near a massive fireplace with a small gas heater next to it, and to the right was a leather couch. A wing chair and ottoman faced the French windows and doors that opened out to the balcony which looked out over the sea. A massive four-poster bed was also in evidence, with faded silk covering the top in what used to be an elaborate canopy setup, but it was now tattered and dusty.

"That canopy will be the FIRST thing to go," he remarked.

Claymore cringed. "But she... that is, it isn't really that bad, is it?"

"It's dreadful," Martha sniffed.

"And I won't sleep with frou-frou," the seaman added. "What's that?" He pointed at the telescope in front of the windows.

"A — a telescope?" Claymore replied, sounding so uncertain and nervous that it came out as another question.

"I can see that. Why is it here?" Daniel asked, refraining only just from rolling his eyes at how donkey-brained the fellow could be.

"Well, er — Mrs. Muir was a bit on the ec-eccentric side, for her day. She likes to... that is, liked to look at the stars and stuff up in the sky, at night." Claymore shrugged. As he spoke, the Captain wandered over to peer at the device and put his eye to it.

"Don't!" Claymore wailed. "It's — dusty. You might irritate your eye."

Daniel counted to ten in Latin, mentally, and then replied with forced patience, "I'm not worried about a little dust, and even if I was, the device is in perfect order. Not a speck of dirt on it. Whoever kept this clean would have passed any inspection. Does it come with the house?"

"Oh yeah," the landlord answered. "She'd never... that is, it's stood right where it is for a hundred years."

Leaving the telescope, the Captain moved about the room curiously, as Claymore seemed to breathe a bit easier. "Hmm..." he whispered, looking into the telescope's eyepiece. "Maybe the old girl is mellowing after all..."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the telescope pivoted around and clomped him soundly on the side of the head. Peering into the eyepiece again, Claymore had no trouble seeing Carolyn Muir's angry face, and in his head, he could hear her say, _"I want that man out of my bedroom and out of my house!"_

"I'm canceling the lease, Captain Gregg!" Claymore wailed, and double-timed it toward the door. As his startled tenants started after him, Daniel Gregg could have almost sworn he heard a mad wail of laughter.

Claymore skidded down the stairs and landed in a heap at the bottom, where he did not move.

The Captain shook his head. "Poor fellow. I didn't know I would be paying rent to a half-wit. Go get some water, Martha. We need to revive him. The last thing I need is him hurting himself and suing me for damages."

"He can't!" Martha protested. "It's his house — but the sooner he is gone, the better." She departed for the kitchen.

"If I had a flask, I'd poor some rum down his throat," muttered the Captain, holding the other man's head up. "Wake up, man." There was a murmur from Claymore.

"I'd rather have Scotch."

When Martha came back into the room, she wasted no time dashing a glass of water into Claymore's face, and he sat up with a start. "Captain Gregg, you cannot stay in this house! Get your children and leave!"

"Nonsense, man — it's nothing but wind in the chimney."

"That was HER in the chimney!" he babbled hysterically. "Captain, this house is haunted!"

"Who, her?" Martha asked, befuddled.

"Carolyn Muir!"

"Nonsense. This place is dirty, yes, haunted, no. We'll have it shipshape and Bristol fashion in no time."

Claymore looked past the seaman's shoulder at Carolyn's disembodied, head, visible only to him, and she let out an ear-piercing scream, directed to Claymore's ears only. With one bound, the jellyfish was out the front door, down the walk and roaring down the road in his ramshackle old car.

"What's the matter with Mr. Muir?" Candy asked, coming into the room with Jonathan.

"I think he is full of..." Daniel started, but Martha stopped him.

"Captain, you aren't on board a ship anymore."

"...Bilge and sea water!" he continued.

Shaking her head, Martha said, "Well, this HOUSE is full of dust and cobwebs. If you want me to work miracles, then I need some help paring this mountain of dirt down to a molehill."

"Right. Martha, your troops await orders," the Captain nodded briskly. "I'll telephone the hardware store. I need to get the paint for the living room ordered, at least. I suppose I could hire a painter to come out today, but the walls should be scrubbed before we go too far, and I can paint as well as the next man. I can make a quick run into town if they have the color I want. I have a feeling it won't be our only trip there in the immediate future! In the meantime..." He glanced at his children, who seemed ready to tackle anything. "Candy, Jonathan, start stowing your gear."

"Sweepers, man your brooms — clean sweep-down fore and aft!" Jonathan shouted.

"Thanks, mate," his father grinned.

"All hands, turn to!" Candy cried, and the little crew set to work.

XXX

By evening, the house might not have sparkled, but it was a sight better than it had been. The entire crew was more than a little tired and Daniel silently predicted he might have an ache or two in places he hadn't realized existed in the morning. But, looking around at the progress, he decided that a sore muscle or two was worth it.

They were almost too tired to eat the sandwiches Martha made for dinner. Who knew that cold-cuts on wheat bread could taste like gourmet cooking?

"Oh, good!" said Candy, reaching for the TV switch. "_Adam-12 _— that new show about policemen is on. We haven't missed it!"

"I wanted to watch McHale's Navy!" Jonathan protested.

"Idiotic show," The Captain grumbled. "Nothing like the real Navy at all. Now, kids..." the Captain started, but just then, there was a large crack of thunder, and every light in the house went off. "Blast!" the seaman exclaimed, wishing he could say something stronger.

"Have no fear," came Martha's voice. "I heard power failures are the norm in these old houses, and I've put candles everywhere." So saying, there was the sound of a match striking, and her face was illuminated with light.

"You saved the day again, Martha," Daniel said, as she moved about the room, lighting more candles.

"But, can the TV work with a candle?" Jonathan asked seriously.

"'Course not," Candy answered, before her father could. "Can you get the lights back on, Daddy?"

Daniel shook his head. "I can look, but I don't think so," he answered. "Usually one has to wait until the power company does something."

"But that could be all night!" Jonathan protested. "And sitting in the dark is going to make me sleepy!"

"Me, too," Candy agreed, nodding her head.

"It wouldn't surprise me a bit," said their father. "You two have had a big day and worked hard. You need a good night's sleep."

"I don't want to go to sleep yet!" Candy argued. "I wanted to eat dinner and watch TV and maybe see the ghost again."

"Now you know perfectly well there are no such things as ghosts," Daniel smiled. "Now eat your dinner. Maybe I can read to you for a while after."

"Okay," the kids said agreeably. "That's almost as good as TV."

"Glad I make the cut," he grinned, biting into his sandwich.

After dinner, the seaman did read for a while by candlelight, but soon the children's heads began to droop and his eyes began to protest the extra strain, and it wasn't long before he laid the book aside and announced it was time for bed. Not hearing any argument, he began herding the children upstairs.

As the Captain tucked his children in, Martha poked her head into the nursery door. "I wanted to say good night. I'm turning into a pumpkin. Besides, with the power out, there's not much point in being up. I can't see to read or do any mending."

"We've all earned a good night's sleep," the Captain nodded.

"Mrs. Muir doesn't like electric lights," Candy said.

Just at that moment, thunder crashed, making Martha jump. "Uh — can we ix-nay the ghost stories during the storm, kids?" she asked. "Things seem creepy enough without that."

"She's not creepy, just a little unhappy about stuff," Jonathan piped up.

"Kids!" Martha exclaimed.

"Now, children, we don't want to frighten Martha," their father scolded gently. "If you aren't careful, you'll scare yourselves into nightmares and we still have too much to do tomorrow for my crew to be bleary-eyed and sleepy."

"We're sorry, Martha," Candy said. "Do you want Scruffy to sleep with you?"

"I'll pass on that offer, but thanks," she answered dryly. "Good night. Since I couldn't watch Errol Flynn on TV, I'm going to see if I can dream him up."

"I'll guide you to your room," the Captain said as he adjusted Jonathan's covers and gave his children a last kiss goodnight.

After providing light for Martha's trip to her door, he returned to the front room. From over the mantle, Carolyn Muir's portrait seemed to regard him calmly. He stared at her for a moment or two, trying to quell the tension he felt. He was too tired to sleep. If only there was more light to read by! Walking over to the fireplace, he took a paint chip from one pocket and held it up so that between the last of the dying firelight and the candle he had just set down, he could make it out, if only barely. Yes, the color he had chosen would work nicely. Picking up the candle again, he angled it so as to get a better look at the 'lady' of the manor. Before the light could fully reveal her face, the flame abruptly went out.

In annoyance, he looked up at her image. "Ghosts! If you ARE there, stop being a childish harridan. If there's anything I won't allow on my ship, it's an unladylike spook," he jested, not really expecting a response.

"YOUR ship?" a voice called from the darkness. "It's my _home,_ and I am not unladylike, childish, nor a harridan."

Slowly, Daniel turned toward the bay window to see the woman whose visage graced his wall. "Carolyn Muir, I presume?" he asked, carefully keeping any trace of disbelief from his voice.

"Brilliant deduction," she nodded. "Bravo. As your prize, you can leave Gull Cottage and I'll forgive you for trespassing."

"I have no intention of leaving, my dear. This is now my home, mine and my children's."

Carolyn's eyes flashed fire. "I am NOT your dear."

"Merely a figure of speech, Mrs. Muir," he returned. "Tell me, were you always such a shrew, or did you become one in death?"

"I am not a shrew, nor any of those other insulting things that you called me earlier. Just because I don't melt at your feet is no reason to slander me," she sniffed. "And, you are no gentleman to make such unkind comments."

Daniel considered, and then shrugged. "To prove that I am a gentleman, I won't correct you. Let's get a fresh start here and allow me to introduce myself. Captain Daniel Gregg."

"Captain? You're a seaman?" She lifted a brow.

"Retired, yes," he nodded.

The spirit muttered something that sounded like, "It figures," before saying aloud, "I suppose you have a girl in every port? Well, don't bring them around here. Or, rather, if you were going to stay here, which you aren't, I would not allow you to bring a string of — of — that kind of woman into my house."

"If I had wanted to, I could have had fifty in every port, but I did not. I gather you have met my children, so you know I was married. I therefore had but _one_ girl in _one_ port and have not considered dating again since her death. Not yet." For a second, his gaze lingered on the woman standing in front of him.

"Just because you were married doesn't mean you didn't have fifty girls," she shot back, trying to regain the upper hand.

"Is that what happened to you? Your husband decided he wanted a sweeter-tempered girl and throttled you for being too smart-mouthed?" Daniel asked.

"Hardly. He died first," Carolyn rolled her eyes. "The official story, which is a complete fabrication concocted by feeble-minded sensationalists, is that I was depressed over Robert's death and killed myself."

"That is not the truth?"

"Good heavens, no," she sniffed. As her attention became focused on the story, the storm began to gentle into a light rain. "I'd only recently had gas heaters installed, you understand. Well, one night, it was rainy and chilly, so I got up and shut the window and turned on the heater, and I kicked it. Quite by accident. It WAS dark, after all. Something didn't work properly with the pilot light, and I died."

"Carbon monoxide poisoning," Daniel said.

"Yes. But, everyone thought I did it on purpose because my daft, flitter-brained housekeeper said I always slept with my window open. I certainly didn't in the rain! It would have been too cold, and ruined the rugs. I hope your — Martha, is it? — has more sense."

"She does."

"Then, I am sure she can make your next place a lovely home."

"We are not going anywhere," Daniel said firmly. "Look, Mrs. Muir, be reasonable. My children have lost their mother and been uprooted from the place they grew up. I had to get them out of there, though. My in-laws were about to ship them off to boarding school. I want to raise them in their own home. I think this would be a good place for it."

"Well," she wavered a little. "They do seem like nice children. I did want children."

"And, if you need help packing your — whatever it is ghosts have, I will gladly assist you in moving," Daniel continued with a smile.

"What?"

"You won't be haunting us, now that we've got it worked out."

"That's true, because you will be living elsewhere, sir." She vanished, but her voice went on_, "I WON'T be turned out of my own home! If you think I was a harridan before, just watch me now!"_

Before the Captain could get another word out, there was a mighty crack of lightening and a boom of thunder that shook the roof. "Why you..." Daniel started, but before he could say another word, two small figures appeared out of nowhere, Martha not far behind them.

"Hey!" Jonathan demanded. "Did you do that?"

"Don't be silly!" Candy sniffed. "I bet it was..."

"It doesn't matter who it was," Daniel growled. "We are not staying in this house another instant! Martha, start packing immediately!"

"PACKING?" The housekeeper stared at her employer in disbelief. "Why? It's late! We're all in bed..."

"We're not," Candy pointed out. "Why do you want to leave, Dad?"

"Because of hoyden females," he muttered.

"What?" Martha didn't quite catch what he said.

"Nothing. It was just not a good idea to take this house. As galling as it is to say, Mr. Muir was right, this place is wrong for us."

"But I like it here!" Candy wailed.

"Yeah," Jonathan added. "And I bet nobody else in town has a..."

"Jonathan Edward..." the Captain glared.

"Uhh..." Jonathan looked immediately chastised and his eyes grew wide. "Sorry, Sir."

"We'll start packing right away," Candy added, turning her back to her father, dejected. She turned around to face him again. "Can I get dressed first?"

"MAY I, and yes, you may," Daniel frowned, seeing his children pull away from him. "Look, don't be upset, you two. We aren't leaving Maine, just Gull Cottage."

"We know," Candy sighed, heading toward the stairs. "But, it's such a neat house..."

"With a neat ghost," her brother said softly as he followed after her.

"What was that?" Martha asked, as thunder boomed again.

"Nothing, Martha," Daniel scowled. "Just wait until I get my hands on Claymore Muir!"

XXX

Time began to move either very fast, or very slow, it was hard to tell which. For once in his life, Daniel felt clumsy as he tried so hard to hurry. If it was just himself, he would have stayed and let the hellcat rage all she liked; he'd win, he knew. But, he could not subject the children to that.

Finally, the packing was done and the car re-loaded. He was not sure if he was surprised or not that the rain had all but ceased.

He was out warming up the car when Candy and Jonathan brought out the last loads and reluctantly climbed into the back seat.

"I think that's everything, Captain," Martha said, putting one final box in the tailgate and shutting it. "Well, if we are going to leave, I guess it's good you didn't get a chance to unload that antique desk of yours. Wrestling it up and down stairs in the same day wouldn't be good for anyone's muscles. It'll probably be easier to get some help with it taking a house in town, anyway." She scratched her head. "I feel like we are forgetting something..."

"Scruffy!" two juvenile voices exclaimed.

Martha snapped her fingers. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "For a puppy, he's awfully darn quiet!" She looked at the children. "You didn't put him in the bathroom to keep him from getting stepped on while we packed, did you?"

They shook their heads in unison. "Uh-uh."

"I hate to think of him wandering around outside anywhere," the Captain murmured. "When was the last time you saw him? Either of you?"

Candy and Jonathan looked at each other, thinking hard.

"We saw him before bed," Jonathan puzzled.

"And, I almost tripped over him when we got up again," Candy added.

"But when you came downstairs, was he with you? No, he wasn't," Daniel went on, answering his own question.

"I didn't see him at all when we were packing up," Martha said, shaking her head. "He must have been scared by all the activity and hid somewhere."

"He might be in one of the boxes," Jonathan put in.

Candy socked her brother lightly on the arm. "Uh-uh! He'd start yapping. We'd have heard him, ding-dong."

"Candace Hope Gregg, don't hit your brother, or call him names!" the seaman reprimanded her, and then he turned the ignition key back to the 'off' position, and looked at his housekeeper. "The pup must have gotten scared and is hiding in the house somewhere."

"Do you want me to go look for him, Captain Gregg?" Martha asked, starting to reach over and unlock her door.

"No, no," Daniel shook his head as he thought about the puppy and about the ghost in the house. "I'll go fetch him. He's probably scared and will come as soon as I open the door."

"But I don't want to sit in the car!" Jonathan protested. "I want to help!"

"Yeah, Jonathan's right," Candy agreed. "He's our dog, and we were supposed to take care of him, and we didn't."

"And I don't want to sit out here in a dark car," Martha said firmly.

The Captain shook his head. He couldn't argue with that kind of logic.

"Very well, we'll all go in. But I don't want to mislay any children. You all can check downstairs, and I'll look upstairs — that is, if he doesn't meet us at the door."

Silently, they trooped up the walk then re-entered the house. For a moment, they paused in the threshold, waiting to see if Scruffy would come charging at the sound of their return. No such luck.

"I'll just head upstairs and see if he's there while you all look around here," the Captain instructed.

"Okay, Daddy."

"All right, Captain."

XXX

Starting with the hall, the seaman turned his flashlight on every corner, whistling softly. "Scruffy? Scruffy! Here, boy."

When no sound of toenails clicking on wood, or an answering bark was heard, he opened the door of the nursery and played the flashlight beam over the area. How lonely it looked! Everything in the room seemed to cry out for children to be sleeping there. But now there were no children, and more important at that moment, there was still no sign of Scruffy. Closing the door, he made his way down the hall — first checking the upstairs bathroom. Scruffy was known for trying to drink from the toilet now and again.

The Master Cabin came next. Nothing. As the flashlight beam hit the telescope by the French doors leading to the balcony, Daniel Gregg found himself wondering how many nights Carolyn Muir had spent looking through the telescope — _does she see the same things in the sky that I would see if I looked through it? Or does she see things from a long time ago?_

The seaman shook himself. _It's a fair question, but it brings me no where nearer finding Scruffy,_ he thought. Blast. _That little dust mop has to be around here somewhere._ With a sigh, he mounted the steps to the attic.

The door was slightly ajar; he placed a hand on the knob to open it fully. As he did so, he heard a soft voice.

"Maybe I was being a little bit, only a little bit unreasonable, but darn it, I've lived here since I was a girl. I won't be dismissed just because I'm a woman or a ghost." There was a sigh. "You're a sweet little pup. I bet your owners will be looking for you. I'm glad I got to say good-bye to you, even if I couldn't to the kids."

The Captain took a step inside the dusty room. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Carolyn sitting on a trunk, chatting to Scruffy who was sitting contentedly at her feet. Hearing his footfall, she turned and met his eyes. Neither said a word until she broke the silence.

"Back again? I thought you were off to give my one-time husband's not-so-great nephew a lecture and then be gone."

"So you thought you had gotten rid of us, eh?"

"You wanted to leave — I couldn't stop you."

"Madam, you are the one who wanted us to leave."

"Not true — you wanted ME to leave... and I won't. But I'm not surprised you forced your way back in here."

"Forced? My dear woman, we never left. You had our dog."

"I didn't kidnap him — or make him stay. And I can't make you to stay or go either."

"No, but you can make the place blasted disagreeable if you aren't happy."

The ghost shrugged. "I AM disagreeable when I am being told what to do... I've had enough of that in my life, and I won't take it anymore, blast it."

The Captain looked shocked. "'Blast' is not a lady's word, Mrs. Muir."

"I'll say it if I want to. I like it. Blast, Blast, Blast!"

"Well, it doesn't sound too bad, coming from you. It certainly beats rain, thunder and no lights."

With a small wave of her hand, the lights were back on in the attic, and, the Captain assumed, everywhere else necessary in the house. Then Scruffy whined and looked up at Carolyn.

"At least someone seems to be sorry to say good-bye," she said sadly. "I'm going to miss you, little guy."

Daniel Gregg raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you are leaving Gull Cottage?"

"No. You are, remember?"

"Aye." With a sigh, he pulled out an old-fashioned pocket watch and glanced at it. "It is getting late. I suppose..."

"I could let you stay the night," Carolyn said softly, looking up at him.

"You'll _let_ me do nothing, Madam. I have a lease."

"Yes, you do. So are you staying now?" She gave him an enchanting smile. "You are willing to share a house with a ghost?"

"Perhaps. For tonight, at least. The children need their rest."

"Fine," she nodded. "I'll keep an eye on the place, as I have every night for the last hundred years then. I think you will find that perhaps we can stay out of each other's way, after all."

"Where do you keep watch from?" the Captain asked, curious.

"All over the house. But mostly outside my room... on the balcony."

"Your room?"

"It was my room, once." She gave a delicate shrug. "Though most of my things are long gone now. Made off with by Claymore's ancestors — or rotted away with age, like that canopy over the bed."

"I'm sorry about that," Daniel said gently. "But the fabric was old and moth-eaten, and yes, rotten. The tall posters don't look too bad by themselves, do they? You wouldn't really ask me to sleep in all that feminine frippery even if it WAS in good shape, would you?"

The ghost gave her first real smile of the night. "That particular canopy wasn't mine, but I suppose not. Robert — my late husband — wouldn't have it either. Of course there were a lot of things he wouldn't have, including..." She stopped suddenly, as the calls of Candy and Jonathan could be heard through the floor.

"Daddy! Hey, Dad! The power's back on! Did you find Scruffy? Where are you, Dad?"

"You need to go now." Carolyn gave him a wistful smile. "Your children need you."

"Scruffy's here!" the Captain called, making his voice heard. "We'll be there in a few minutes!"

"Okay!"

"Mrs. Muir?" The seaman asked, after a moment.

"Yes?"

"You didn't bring Scruffy up here just to keep us from leaving, did you? I must be completely free to go..."

She smiled. "No, my dear Captain. I can't force myself on anyone. Some day, if you really want to leave Gull Cottage, I won't be able to stop you."

"But you stopped me... we _were_ stopped this time!" Daniel said, looking slightly bewildered.

"Did I?" She shook her head again. "It could have been Scruffy, you know. He has good sense."

The Captain raised his eyebrows as the ghost started to fade out, and then she solidified again.

"So..."

"So?"

"So we are both on trial for the time being? I have a right to a few things..."

"...As do I," he nodded. "Matters may not seem so complicated in the morning. What about Martha?"

"What about her?"

"Should I... I mean, are you going to introduce yourself to her, too? As you did to the children and me?"

"In time," she smiled. "I'll know when that is. In the meantime, what is it that seaman say? Keep your sails trimmed and your lip buttoned, and I am sure she will be none the wiser."

"You don't know Martha," he grinned. "She'll ferret you out."

"I doubt that," she sniffed. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think... that is... since the children both know about me, do you think it would be all right if I helped tuck them in every so often?"

"You'd enjoy that?"

"I would. Very much," she nodded.

"I think it could be arranged," he agreed. "That is, if they don't mind, and I don't think they will."

"Daddy!" came a cry from below decks, and he gave a little sigh.

"I don't know if it is possible to wish a spirit good night, since you don't sleep, but, my dear, I wish you a good night. Good night, and thank you."

"For finding Scruffy?"

"No..." he replied quietly. "Just for being here."

XXX

For the second time that night, the house wound down to go to bed. Just as the Captain reached the nursery door to make sure the children were settled and not overly excited, he paused at the door. A woman's voice was speaking softly. He listened.

"I never got the chance to tuck children in before, you know. It's one of my few regrets. In the morning, a whole new chapter will start in our lives, so to speak. I hope you will see me as someone who's not scary, just a friend. Sweet dreams, dear ones."

A moment later, Daniel's new co-inhabitant popped into the hallway. "Taken to listening at keyholes, Captain?"

"I could not help but overhear," he shrugged.

"I didn't wake them," Carolyn promised. "I just wanted to — welcome them, in a way."

He smiled. "I did not say that I disapproved. I'm pleased that you are kindly inclined toward Candy and Jonathan. And from what they have said, even when I thought they were spinning tales, they seem to like you already."

"They're lovely children." She averted her eyes. "And, I promise not to make any noise when I'm observing the stars tonight from our room."

"Our room, Madam?" He lifted a brow. "I had hoped you might have reconsidered that part."

"Well, I won't force you to stay in there, if you don't want to. It was my room to begin with," she pointed out, and then smiled impishly. "Don't worry, Captain. I'm just a ghost." On that note, she vanished.

Turning his eyes to the ceiling, he muttered, "I will trust you are also a LADY."

After changing, rather hurriedly, for bed, the Captain paused. No, he could not sense the spectral female. Letting out a breath, he shook his head. She was a confounding thing, but equally intriguing. As he put his pocket watch on the bedside table, he frowned, realizing he had not thought about putting out Melanie's photo. He glanced around, testing once more to see if Carolyn was present.

"You know, Mrs. Muir, I have known many women in my time, even married one, but none of them ever challenged me as you do. I think you might be what I was looking for and thought I had found once. You would not have backed down from adventure or been content to be left at home, if given a choice. I can see you and I sailing the world together, following those stars you love. What a shame, that you were not born in my time, or I in yours." He shook his head at his own fanciful musings and hoped she had not heard.

In moments, Daniel Gregg was fast asleep.

END CHAPTER 1 


	2. Chapter 2

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

Mary and Amanda

Chapter Two

Despite the initial excitement of moving in, starting a new school, and having a ghost in the house, life soon settled into something approaching normalcy at Gull Cottage; even so, it wasn't completely without excitement. The family had barely settled in when they played host to an eloping couple who got caught in a non-Carolyn-engendered storm. Then, some needed repairs being made turned into an obstacle course. Though Daniel could handle many things, he did feel that Claymore should live up to the obligations outlined in the rental agreement. However, even when Claymore was coerced or convinced into it, the local contractors were reluctant to work on Gull Cottage, insisting on charging a premium for the danger factor, a 'terror tax.' When the Captain railed at Carolyn about how her antics had impacted his pocketbook, she pointed out that had she allowed every Tom, Dick, or Harry who wanted to move in to do so, the cottage might not have been available for his family to move into. She was more than willing to help urge Claymore to assist with the expenses involved in the repairs, and also a bit smug about the success of the effort.

Hoping to get to know the locals and perhaps dispel the rumors about his home, Daniel agreed, albeit a little reluctantly, to co-star in a play Claymore had written opposite recent divorcee' Betty Coburn, a woman who reminded Carolyn of one of the Barbie dolls she had seen advertised during the commercial breaks on the cartoons the kids watched. Though she pretended not to care, Daniel could tell she was living up to her green eyes, especially when his ghost intervened to prevent him from kissing Mrs. Coburn. However, it was only her bit of temper turning Claymore's drama into a comic farce that made the whole thing even slightly watchable.

The Captain's writing was going well. Assignments for several periodicals had branched out to a few small magazine publications, and the seaman was beginning to think that perhaps he could make a go of writing as a full time career — a welcome increase from just his pension as a retired Navy officer. Carolyn Muir was taking an interest in that aspect of the seaman's life and had started popping in to watching him work while the children were at school. Mortal and ghost had started making a habit of meeting once a week for a glass of Madeira and an hour of talk on Tuesday afternoons — an appointment the seaman never forgot and was testy about if he missed, for some unavoidable reason, much to the puzzlement of Martha, who still had no actual awareness of Carolyn's existence.

"You make a delightful distraction, my dear," the Captain smiled at her over his amber glass. "But, I do believe you are driving Martha slightly bonkers at times." He winked.

"I?" Carolyn looked wounded. "I haven't bothered Martha at all! Just the opposite, the other day I helped her."

"That is precisely what I mean, Dear Lady. She thinks that instead of making shoes, some elves have taken up housework."

The ghost shrugged. "You're referring to...?"

"Doing her ironing, for openers."

"Ironing takes time, and she said it was boring. I heard her. I did it while she was asleep, since I cannot, and I really don't mind it. It's such an easier chore with the iron she has! Now THAT is one place I can see some advancements since my day. Using an electric iron is much nicer than heating up the whole house. Keeping several flat irons going on the stove was awful!"

"I thought you had a housekeeper for such things?"

"She didn't live here. I couldn't afford her for more than three days a week."

"What about your dislike of electricity? The children have mentioned it, you know."

"Perhaps I was being a little temperamental. JUST perhaps. I like the positive aspects of it, but I miss the gentility of my era."

"Still not fond of electric lights, eh?"

"Candlelight is softer."

"Not as good for the eyes, though," the Captain remarked, remembering reading to the children their first night. "Still, you are going to make Martha lose her marbles, doing work for her. Why don't you just tell her you are here? Then you can help her all you want."

"She's not ready to know yet, Captain."

"When WILL she be ready?"

"How do I know? I'm a ghost, not a mind reader. The time will come, and when it does, I'll know."

"I see," he nodded, though he didn't quite.

They were silent for a moment or two, but then Daniel snapped his fingers. "Oh! I do have some news for you. I was in town today, and..."

"DON'T tell me you have been trapped by that seaweed-brained nephew of mine into doing another play?"

"No, but it does concern him. So," He lifted his glass. "Cheers."

As she lifted hers, Carolyn asked, "To what are we toasting?"

"The mortgage papers for Gull Cottage were filed today. I am now the proud owner of this lovely home. Well, the bank and me. I have bought the place from Claymore, so you don't have to worry about dealing with your quivering squid of a nephew, as I have heard you call him... any more."

Carolyn put her glass down. "I thought you were only renting from him?"

"With an option to buy. I want to put down roots," he clarified.

"I... I never thought of you buying the place..."

"You seem upset, my dear. I thought you would be pleased to have it out of Claymore's hands and owned by someone who will love it and care for it as you did... do."

"Oh... I am, Captain, but it seems like such a permanent thing. Are you sure?"

"Quite sure... if you are?"

"I am, though it seems strange to think that Claymore won't be able to harass me any longer and to think that my family's home really is passing out of the family, officially."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. I thought you'd be pleased. You do know that unlike that squid, I want only what is best for this house, and... And you?"

"Yes, Captain, and I am glad. It just takes some getting used to. I always imagined that when people in the Bible were healed of something, that perhaps they had to become accustomed to not leaning on their old canes and so forth."

He nodded slowly. "I suppose so. Is that all it is?"

"I don't want to ruin your joy."

"Then satisfy my curiosity."

"I once upon a time had a dear god-daughter, Briana," Carolyn began. "She was the youngest of a whole herd of girls my best friend gave birth to and as such would not be able to have much of a dowry. When it seemed as if I would never have a child, especially after Robert died, I had hoped to leave Gull Cottage to her. However, his will superseded my wishes. I was allowed to finish my days in my own home, but upon my death, it went to his family. I had no rights in the matter, though he would not have had the house, were it not for me. I'm sure Briana made out well in life, but I did feel as if I failed her."

"Did she ever contact you? I mean on the other side, and say that she was unhappy with you, or felt cheated?"

Carolyn shook her head. "Captain, I don't think you quite have a concept of how many people are on this side of the veil — either ghosts, or souls that have gone into the light. Even if she was a ghost that doesn't mean that she would know where I was, or for that matter that I was haunting or not. And to answer your question, no — I have not heard from her or anyone I knew when I was alive."

"Still, she sounds like a good person. I think she would understand your circumstances."

"She was. The daughter I never had, in a way, I suppose." Carolyn stared into her drink pensively. "I can only hope for the best. Even ghosts can't alter the past."

"I'm sorry if my actions have made you unhappy."

"They haven't. I know that my original plan can never come to fruition," Carolyn assured him. "If Briana's family cannot have this house, there's no one I would rather have it than you. Truly."

"Good," he answered, looking relieved. "The last thing I want is to make you miserable, or upset. We can't have you moaning about the place like a..."

"...Ghost?" she smiled.

He laughed. "Just so, yes. We can't have that."

She gave him a lovely smile then, picked up her glass and beamed at him from over the top of it, and the Captain wondered idly when her happiness had come to mean so much to him.

XXX

"Why are you so spit and polished at such an early hour, Captain?" Carolyn asked, appearing just as he finished combing his hair and adjusting his necktie. "It is far too early to be going on a date." If there was a slight edge to her voice on that last question, neither mentioned it.

"Now, why would I bother with dating when I'm surrounded by lovely females in my own home?" he winked.

Though she was pleased, Carolyn hid it. Fortunately, ghosts did not blush. "You didn't answer my question."

"I suppose women have been prone to — we'll say being curious, to be polite," he teased, "since the Dark Ages."

Wrinkling her nose at him, Carolyn huffed, "I'm not _that_ old."

"True. I simply need to go to Philly for the day to see a magazine publisher. I'll return home by this evening." He thought a moment. "I do not suppose you would care to come along? Train rides tend to be boring."

Carolyn considered the question. "I've never tried to go that far away, not as a ghost. I do leave Gull Cottage, from time to time, but travel across the spectral plane is not the same. It's a tempting thought, but I'd better let you go alone, this time."

"So, I will have to content myself with reading the book Melanie's cousin, Harriet, so 'thoughtfully' mailed me," Daniel scowled, picking up the volume that had come in yesterday's post; _Dealing with Grief In Ten Easy Steps._

"It seems to me that you've dealt with it," Carolyn commented, as she took note of the title on the cover.

"Ah, but you see, my moving out into this "wilderness" is some sort of "penance," or a "self-imposed martyrdom," according to Harriet. I'm supposedly a regular St. John the Beloved, suffering in silence."

"I would say something about that, my dear Captain, but I am a lady," Carolyn informed him.

"Don't worry your pretty head; I've thought all those things enough to cover us both." He grinned at her as he donned his jacket. "Keep an eye on the place today, eh?"

"Of course. Be safe, Captain."

XXX

To avoid having to make polite conversation with his fellow passengers — Daniel loathed small talk — he decided to go on and read Harriet's blasted book. Initially, he mentally ridiculed every page, but as he continued passages began to ring disturbingly true, making him wonder if perhaps Carolyn Muir was a figment of his grief-clouded mind. _Could it be possible? No, Candy and Jonathan see her as well. Claymore certainly does. But, perhaps the children just want a mother. _He had admitted to himself that Carolyn was everything he had been looking for when he married Melanie. As for Claymore Muir, well, basing reality on that man's perceptions was hardly the sanest course of action.

Try as he might, Daniel could not completely dismiss his doubts, so after meeting with his publisher and being treated to a meal at a more expensive restaurant than he would normally indulge in, he decided to stop off at a psychiatrist's office. It took a call or two, but he found that one Dr. Ryan McNally was willing to see him without an appointment. When he arrived, he first double-checked the fact that all he said would be kept confidential. Dr. McNally assured him it would be, so the Captain laid out his story in concise sentences, as if he were making a report to a superior officer.

"Hmm."

"Yes? That 'hmm' sounds like more than 'hmm'," Daniel prompted. "I have learned that when a doctor says 'hmm,' 'but,' or 'however,' it is either bad news, expensive, or both."

Dr. McNally laughed. "I wouldn't call it bad news. Grief is a common malady, especially with a war on. Your problem doesn't seem to be impairing your functioning, yet, but it could in the future. There are worse problems to have than an attractive spirit being everything you could want. As to your children's experience with her, imaginary friends are common among young adolescents, especially following the loss of a parent. They'll outgrow it."

Daniel resisted the urge to correct the term "it" to "her."

"And will I?"

"Most likely. You have acknowledged the problem — that is the first step, you know." Doctor McNally went over to his desk and picked up an appointment book. "Does Schooner Bay have a psychiatrist? No? Well, I could fit you in on — Thursdays at — three. Within a year, two at the most, we'll have your ghost banished back into your id. I don't think I'll need to prescribe anything. Not yet." He set down the book and added, "Sessions are thirty-five dollars an hour, payable in advance."

The Captain's military control kept his brows from shooting upwards. He merely thanked the doctor and said he'd have to check his schedule and get back to him.

XXX

On the trip home, he pondered Dr. McNally's words and Harriet's book. Her opinion was no better a basis for life than Claymore's, if one considered the two of them against each other.

By the time he made it home, Daniel had made his choice. After greeting Martha and the children, he went upstairs to shower before dinner. As he had expected, perhaps even hoped, Carolyn was waiting.

"So, how did your trip go?" she asked, looking up from a book she had been reading.

"The first meeting with the publisher went quite well."

"First meeting implies a second, at least," she noted.

"Yes. I went to see a doctor, a headshrinker. Harriet's book made me think I might be barmy, imagining you, and so on."

"Remind me to slap Harriet if I ever meet her," Carolyn mused. "That is, if you believe in me, remind me. Otherwise, I'll write myself a note. The fact that you are missing a sheet of paper will just be your imagination."

"I'll do the reminding. For thirty-five dollars a week, for at least a year, he would cure me of you. If you add all that up, as well as the costs to get to and from Philly each week, I would rather be deluded by you, my dear, and richer, in more ways than one, than perfectly sane." Daniel smiled. "If you are a delusion, you are a dear one, and you make life far more interesting than mere rationality."

"Glad to hear it," she smiled. "Though, I do have my doubts — about you. Are you positive that humans exist? Maybe I am simply dreaming YOU up, my dear Captain."

"I have been told by more than one woman that I am dreamy."

"What? I can't hear a thing. Humans do not exist," she laughed, placing hands over her ears for a moment. "Of course, if I never figured that out while Claymore was bedeviling me, then why on Earth would I want to do so now when someone far more — ah — tolerable — is insisting on being real? Okay, the good doctor won't get me as a patient, either." For a moment, it looked as if she might want to kiss him, and then she retreated into herself a bit. "We can just be deluded delusions together."

"I quite approve of that idea, Mrs. Muir."

XXX

About a week later, Carolyn appeared in the Master Cabin late one evening, just as Daniel was putting the dust cover on his typewriter.

"Finishing up for the evening, Captain?"

"Aye. It's late, and I am falling asleep at my desk. Tomorrow is another day. What brings you here this time of night?"

"I suppose I could tell you tomorrow morning, if you are tired, but..."

"That's fine. Tell me now. You look rather... Is anything wrong?"

She hesitated, and then said, "It's nothing, really. I just need to be away for a few days and wanted to tell you before I left."

"Away?" The seaman could not keep the surprise out of his voice. "Where are you going? You're coming back, aren't you?"

For a moment, she looked annoyed at the idea of being questioned, then, realizing it meant he cared, softened. "Of course. You won't be rid of me _that_ easily." A smile let him know she was teasing. "I've made this trip a few dozen times over the years; I just never felt the need to tell anyone when I did before now. The spectral society has a — convention, I suppose, in mortal terms, every year or so. I have always attended. How long I'll be is a bit iffy; time is hard to judge when one is surrounded by spirits instead of humans, but I will try to keep track of it and not be more than two or three days."

"I see," he said slowly. "I... I never thought of you actually leaving Gull Cottage, but I suppose it makes sense that you wouldn't stay on these grounds for a hundred years with no break. I don't suppose you can be any more precise? About how long will you be gone?"

She shook her head. "An estimate is about the best I can manage. But don't worry, I won't be gone long. I'll do a little socializing; maybe see if I run into any old friends..."

"I thought you'd never run into anyone you knew when you were alive," he broke in, sounding a tad peeved.

"That's true, I haven't, but that doesn't mean I haven't made a few friends since I passed on," she answered, trying to tease him out of his funk. "Surely you don't begrudge me just a little fun?"

"I suppose not," he said quietly. "Life here with us must be... too domestic for you, at times."

"Now, I never said that." Reflexively, she reached toward him, but stopped, inches from the disappointing 'feeling' of not being able to touch him. "Domestic is just fine, but I am expected, and you wouldn't want me to let people down, now would you?"

"I suppose not, my dear," he said, smiling down at her. "Who am I to interfere with your afterlife?"

"You are someone who is becoming very important to me," she answered softly. "I'll miss you... all of you."

"And I you," he said gently. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Muir. I'm on deadline for this new story for _Mariner's Quarterly, _and it is making me snappish. Perhaps we can hear of your adventures when you return?"

"Maybe," she frowned. "If it is all right with the president that I discuss such things. I don't believe the subject has ever come up before. Discussing spectral business with humans, that is."

He stiffened slightly. "I see... Well, if you can't, you can't, but the children will miss you, I know."

"And you, Captain?"

"Of course, Madam," he answered, formally. "And when will you be leaving?"

"In the late morning. I want to say goodbye to the children first." She smiled. "Jonathan will want me to bring home a souvenir, but I fear that will be difficult."

The Captain chuckled, and then turned serious. "Just bring yourself home. That will suffice."

XXX

Candy and Jonathan were not at all pleased with the news that Carolyn was leaving, even for a short time, but seeing their father was not concerned (or at least did not seem to be) they said their good-byes graciously.

From the moment Carolyn left on Saturday morning, a slight pall seemed to drop over the house. At least that's the way Daniel thought of it. Candy and Jonathan confided to their father that the house felt lopsided, Scruffy was too quiet for a puppy, and even Martha, who still didn't know about the spirit, made a comment about how out-of-sorts everyone was. By Sunday, the feeling had worsened. After church, Martha reminded the Captain that she was on cleanup duty with the rest of the churchwomen and would get a ride home.

Upon arriving home and fixing the children a sandwich lunch, Daniel told them to go outside and play for a while — he had writing to do. Candy and Jonathan followed their father's wishes, and Daniel retired to the Master Cabin, where he stared at the typewriter for a half an hour before starting anything.

"When will she be home?" he asked the clock on the wall, but naturally, no answer was forthcoming.

An hour passed, and he had finally managed to work up a small head of steam, when Jonathan pounded on the bedroom door.

"What is it, Jonathan?" the Captain asked, trying hard not to sound testy. "I'm rather busy just now."

"Yeah, I know, even on Sunday..." The little boy stepped into the room. "...But..."

"Jonathan... Son, can it wait?"

"Uh... I don't think so. Dad... No, it can't wait."

Making a mistake, Daniel started to X out the words, sighed, yanked the sheet of typing paper from the typewriter and crunched it into a ball. "Blast it, what is it that is so important?"

"Candy's stuck."

His gave Jonathan a look. "Stuck? What do you mean, stuck?"

"She's stuck in a hole," the boy said patiently.

"Scruffy doesn't bury his bones that deep," he chuckled in spite of himself. "He's still a puppy. Tell her to slide out of her shoe, get out of the hole..."

"Not Scruffy," The boy shook his head. "She's stuck in the gazebo."

Now he had his father's full attention.

"What?"

"She's stuck in the gazebo," the boy repeated slowly, wondering what his father didn't 'get.' "In a hole."

"Jonathan, the gazebo has steps, latticework, and railings with banisters. No holes."

"I know, Dad, but there's a hole in the floor now. Candy put it there. She fell through the floor, and she is standing in the hole in the floor and she can't climb out and she can't crawl under the gazebo either. She's stuck."

In a flash, the seaman was out the bedroom door, down the stairs and out to the area in back of the house, Jonathan trailing behind him. As they reached the gazebo, he called to his daughter. "Candy! Are you all right?"

"I'm okay, Daddy," she answered calmly. "I just can't get out. My legs are too close together, and I can't step high enough to get out of the hole."

Treading carefully over the old boards, Daniel reached his daughter and lifted her straight up and out of the hole, and then the structure. Placing her on the lawn, he rolled up the legs of her slacks and examined her legs thoroughly. No blood, not so much as a scratch. _Was anything broken? _"Are you hurt?" he asked quietly. "Candy, are you sure you aren't in pain? Rotate your ankles. Hmm... And now bend your knees... Are you sure nothing hurts?"

The little girl shook her head. "No, Dad, I'm fine."

"How did this happen?" he asked, a bit more calmly, now.

"We were trying to make a swing," Jonathan put in. "We found a rope, and Candy and I climbed up and got it looped over one of the rafters, and we..."

"...And I was swinging, and then jumped off it, and I guess I landed too hard and fell through the floor," Candy finished. "But you can fix the floor, Dad, can't you? The gazebo's a fun place to play and M..."

"You are to go nowhere NEAR this gazebo again, do you understand?" he said, holding onto each child's wrist.

"But why?" Jonathan asked. "We can fix the floor, all we need to do is put a board there, and..."

"No arguments!" He almost barked out the command, but not quite. Taking a deep breath, he let go of his children and went back over to the gazebo. "Blast!" he muttered, shaking one of the entirely too loose pillars that helped hold the open roof in place. "Why didn't I inspect this more carefully before I let the children play on it? They could have been..." He turned back to Candy and Jonathan. "I repeat... this gazebo is off limits until further notice! Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," they nodded, their eyes wide. "Are you going to fix it, or something?"

"Or something," he nodded. "Let's go inside and see if we can find some milk and cookies for you."

XXX

Monday afternoon, Mrs. Post had to park behind Seth and Abner, the local contractors' truck, when she delivered the Gregg children home.

"I thought Dad got Claymore to fix everything before he bought Gull Cottage," Jonathan frowned as the children disembarked.

"Maybe they're fixing the gazebo?" Candy suggested. "Or, Martha might've found something else wrong that we missed knowing about before. It's a really old house. Lots goes wrong, but more is right than wrong."

"Right," Jonathan nodded.

Without having to consult each other, they headed toward the back of the house to see how the repairs were going. However, they met Seth and Abner on the way, pushing a wheelbarrow overflowing with boards. _There couldn't have been that many rotten pieces of wood in the gazebo — could there have been?_

Their dad was right behind them, writing out a check. "Here you go, fellows. Thanks for not charging extra for a rush job."

"No problem, Mr. Gregg," Abner nodded, taking the paper. "Y'know, you could rebuild. The foundation's still there and it is sound."

"Perhaps," the Captain shrugged. "Thanks again."

Having been warned not to mention Carolyn Muir in front of outsiders, Candy and Jonathan contained, if only barely, their cries of dismay and questions until the two men were gone. Once it was safe, they blurted out, "Why did you do that, Dad?"

"Mrs. Muir's gonna be sore. She loved that place."

"So did we!"

"Her dad built it, with his own two hands."

Holding up a hand to silence the protests, the Captain looked at his children squarely in the eye. "I realize all those things, kids, and yes, it was a beautiful building. However, we were extremely fortunate yesterday that Candy was not hurt. Next time, we might be so lucky. I'm sure that C — Mrs. Muir will understand when I tell her the danger you were in."

"But, if I hadn't jumped off the swing, it woulda been okay. I promise I'll be more careful from now on," Candy bit her lip, feeling like it was her fault.

Daniel shook his head. "It was not your fault, my dear. If it had not been your swing, it could have been anything. That is neither here nor there. It is now a moot point. Now, why don't you go take care of your homework and play a while before dinner?"

Unhappily, the kids obeyed. That evening, Martha could not quite understand why they'd be so bothered about an old building, but concluded that perhaps the odd mood was just getting to them. Nothing more was said about the gazebo as they waited for Carolyn's business to be done with so she could return home.

XXX

Tuesday was rainy, but it was, unfortunately, a purely natural shower. No ghostly tantrums had caused it. The kids finished their homework quickly, since recess had been spent inside and they had been able to work on their assignments at school. Unable to play outside, they decided to try a game of hide and seek. An old house like Gull Cottage should be full of good places for that.

The Captain was in the living room, taking time to read through some correspondence and peruse a catalog or two, thinking that he might consider building something to replace the gazebo, when his children came in, carrying an old quilt wrapped around something.

"What's that you have there?" he frowned.

"It was in the back of the guest room closet," Candy replied.

"What were you doing there?" her dad asked, rising to take the object.

"Playing hide and seek," was the answer. "I could hear Jonathan coming, so I tried to go back further in the closet and I felt a loose board."

"She's really good at finding those," Jonathan said, matter-of-factly.

"Hmm. Yes, quite," Daniel frowned.

"But, I heard it creak loud, so I knew that was where she was," the boy continued. "And when I got there, Candy was trying to get it out of the wall."

"It wasn't out of the wall, it was like a secret cabinet," Candy corrected him. "But, this was jammed in really tight. We brought it down here so we could see better."

"Well, let's have a look," the Captain said, taking the parcel. Setting it on the coffee table, he unwrapped it to reveal an old clock.

"It's sure pretty," Candy said.

"Think it works?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know. Let's find out," Daniel remarked, running his hands over it, looking for a way to wind it. "Ah, here's the key, fastened to the back." Deftly, he took the small piece of metal and inserted it in the proper place, but the timepiece remained silent. "Well, blast."

Martha came in, bearing a cup of tea for her boss. "What's that?"

The kids told their story again, concluding with the fact that it didn't work.

"It's still nice to look at," she noted. "You know, there's a clock shop in town. I bet someone there could repair it. Wonder if it belonged to the original owner or if one of the later families brought it in?" Martha glanced up at the painting of Carolyn Muir.

"It would be neat if it was hers," Candy said. "Maybe make up for the gazebo being gone?"

Martha laughed. "Make up to whom?"

"No one," the kids chorused.

"They just meant that it would be one more — authentic piece of history than we knew we had to make up for the loss of the other one," Daniel covered. "Tell you what, I'll take it into town tomorrow and see about getting it fixed."

"Should you speak to Mr. Muir about it?" Martha wondered. "See if it's some sort of heirloom?"

A determined look filled Daniel's visage. "The entire house, shingles to cellar, is mine — ours — now. Heirlooms included." He looked at the clock. "If it's not an heirloom at present, once it's fixed, it can become one for this family." The tone in his voice did not leave room for protest.

XXX

Tuesday passed quietly. Daniel broke from his usual routine and drove the children to school, taking the clock in with him and dropping it off at the repair shop before he came home to start writing. The day seemed interminably long, and it was with some relief that the seaman and housekeeper welcomed the children home from school. It made for a bit more activity in the house, anyway. That evening, the children watched TV, Martha caught up on her sewing, and the whole family retired earlier than usual, Candy and Jonathan commenting to their father that they missed Carolyn Muir tucking them in, too, and that their 'family' was not complete with her gone. The Captain agreed wholeheartedly, if only to himself. Mustn't give up the ship.

Wednesday morning brought no sign of the ghost of Gull Cottage, and after whispered arguments with their father that they wanted to be home for her arrival, the children left for school. Martha drove them in, saying she had a number of errands to run and grocery shopping to do, and that she would probably be gone for at least two hours.

Not sure whether he relished the rare alone time or if the house felt too vacant, Daniel rambled about for a bit, considering which project in which to engage. He had just decided to deal with some yard work and was surveying the front yard when he found his path blocked by a very irate ghost.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Muir," he began, with a smile.

"It looks like I got here just in time. You could have completely destroyed the place if I had been gone one day longer. WHERE IS MY GAZEBO?" On the last word, thunder rolled.

"Is it no longer the custom for ladies to at least say HELLO before they begin caterwauling?" Daniel asked.

It wasn't a good question.

_"Caterwauling?_ Considering the circumstances, I would say I am being reasonably calm, cool, and collected!" she snapped. "I leave for just a few days, and you take advantage of the situation to wreck havoc on my home. I am entitled to yell!"

"Havoc!" the Captain snapped. "Havoc indeed! The gazebo had to go! How DARE you tell me what to do in my house — screaming like a fishwife the moment you arrive!"

"YOUR house!" Her face was now a mask of fury. "This is STILL my house!"

"Might I remind you that I bought it?" he hissed back, seething in rage.

"Something I never should have allowed. At least Claymore had the sense to leave things alone."

"Only because you terrified and nagged him... and probably have for what? Thirty years? You behavior is abominable! You have no right to tell me what to do in my own home! I will not be treated like a doormat — or a pet poodle! You can't just waltz back here after three days, thinking time would stand still without you!"

"You — you call destruction of property life going on?"

"Destruction? You want to hear about destruction? Gull Cottage is my property," he growled. "I have the copy of the mortgage in my desk. Did I forget to show it to you? No... I KNOW I did! Now if you will listen to me for just..."

"One can hardly help but listen to your bellowing!" she thundered back at him. A bolt of lightening raked the sky, and it started to rain in big fat drops. "I don't want to listen to you! I want my gazebo!"

"Your gazebo is gone, and good riddance!" he shouted back.

By now, Carolyn was so angry she could have shed tears. "What's next? My portrait? _Me?"_

"Are you looking for a reason to disappear?" he huffed. "Getting rid of a ratty old gazebo is hardly worth getting into such a hissy fit over."

Carolyn grew very still. In an icy voice, she enunciated, "If you cannot see why this is important, perhaps I should disappear." Before he could protest, she had done just that.

"Mrs. Muir, I... BLAST!" he finished. Turning on his heel toward the house, Daniel slipped on the wet grass and hit the deck, most ungracefully. What he said then was far worse than 'blast,' and getting up painfully, he made his way into the house to change.

XXX

It was still pouring two hours later when the doorbell rang. Taking two steps down the stairs, coming from his room where he was trying and failing to write, Daniel opened the front door, only to find Martha on the other side of it. _Silly of me to_ _expect HER to ring the doorbell_, he thought.

"I had my hands full," Martha said, coming inside. "Captain, the weather around this house is just plain spooky! It's raining buckets here but in town, it's as dry as a bone!"

"Well, we are closer to the water," he replied absently as he reached out to help the good woman with her parcels.

"Still just darn bizarre, if you ask me," she answered, following him to the kitchen. "Thanks for the help. Just set those packages on the table, Captain. Did anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

He jumped. "Nothing to speak of... I guess."

"Nothing but a thunderstorm happening here when it is a perfectly beautiful day everywhere else," Martha protested. "You know, sometimes Captain, I get the feeling there are things happening around here I should know about, and SOMEone is keeping them from me."

"You may not have to worry about anything, after all," Daniel said quietly. "Excuse me, I think I'll go upstairs and try to write something."

"All right," she smiled, then gave him another inquisitive look. "Should I bring you lunch in an hour or so?"

"Maybe," he said absently, walking away from her. "I might let lunch wait until after I get something to eat."

XXX

The rain and thunder lasted all day, and it was still raining when Martha left for town to pick up the children. When they arrived home, the Captain could tell that Candy and Jonathan were itching to ask what was going on, that they suspected the rain was somehow related to their ghostly friend, but he did not have to admit that while Martha was present. When they finally got a chance to speak to their father alone, he felt twice as bad about the whole situation, seeing how disappointed they were.

"Did Mrs. Muir come back?" Jonathan asked.

"And, was she upset about the gazebo? Where is she now?" Candy rushed to say.

"Yes, yes, and I do not know. She was too distraught to listen to why I had it removed, and she vanished. I'm sure it was just for a little while. Just to cool her temper." The Captain hoped he was not stretching the truth. "She must be near about, to make it rain as it is."

The rain continued for the rest of the afternoon, ebbing only slightly around dinner — A fish chowder dinner that was only picked at, and neither the children nor the Captain opted for dessert. Afterwards, Martha left the little family in the living room and went to the kitchen to clean up; commenting that she had a headache and wasn't feeling quite herself.

"It looks like it's crying outside," Candy commented a bit later as she turned away from the rain-spattered bay window in the living room.

"I bet SHE'S crying, too," her brother added. "Dad, we tried calling for Mrs. Muir when we were upstairs, but she didn't answer us! She ALWAYS answers us when we call her!"

"Do you think she's EVER coming back?" Candy asked. Scruffy whined and jumped up on the window seat and peered out into the darkness. "I knew she'd be mad," Candy continued. "You shouldn't have done it until she got back, Daddy."

Daniel looked up from the magazine he wasn't reading.

"Kids, are you sure you have looked for her everywhere? The widow's-walk?"

Candy nodded. "Before dinner."

"The attic?"

"Yeah, Dad," Jonathan sighed.

Daniel pulled his ear, nervously. "Kids, you know I had to do it. It was falling down, and might have killed someone. But I AM sorry..."

"We know," the children said together, and then there was a beat.

"Hey!" Jonathan exclaimed. "The rain stopped!"

"Then that means..." Candy started to smile and they all turned toward Carolyn's portrait, but instead of the vivid green eyes in the painting they knew so well, the face they saw was flat and lifeless. Somehow, the colors seemed to have washed out.

Candy and Jonathan turned back to their father... lower lips trembling.

"She can't hear you, Daddy..." Jonathan started.

"...She's gone..." Candy finished. "She's really, really gone..."

With a sob, his children were out the door and up the stairs, and Daniel looked at the painting on the wall. "You wouldn't leave me... leave the house?" His voice trailed off, and he headed toward the nursery to comfort his children.

XXX

Thursday morning, after getting two muzzy-eyed children off to school, Daniel called Claymore.

"Have you seen Mrs. Muir?" he demanded, barely stopping to identify himself.

"No, why?" he snapped. "Good riddance to her. She's all yours now. Why are you asking me? I thought you were perfectly happy owning your spook house."

"Well, it's just that I had the gazebo out in the back area taken down and..."

"Oh NO!" Daniel could hear his landlord visibly pale over the phone. "Didn't I tell you about the gazebo?"

"NO, you certainly did not," Daniel snapped.

"You shouldn't have done that," Claymore went on. "Oh no, no... My poor heart... I'm having palpitations, here!"

"Claymore..."

"Oh, oh, no-no-no — she is going to..."

"Why are you worried?" Daniel barked. "I bought the house — and I had the gazebo torn down. It wasn't safe."

"She'll blame me, I just know it! Ohhhh, Captain! What have you wrought? She'll come and haunt me here in town..."

After listening to the slithering squid blather for a few more minutes, Daniel found room in the conversation to make his good-byes, and did so, slamming the receiver down loudly.

XXX

That afternoon, Daniel received a call from Mr. Mason, the clock repairman, saying the timepiece was repaired and could be picked up. Grateful for the change in scenery, and hoping that maybe if he LEFT Gull Cottage that Carolyn MIGHT be there when he came back, Daniel went into the village.

"Interesting timepiece you have here, Captain Gregg," Barney Mason started. "She sure is old! Deke Tuttle was in here, saw me repairin' it, and said he would buy it from whomever it belonged to spot cash."

"It's that old?" Daniel asked.

"Oh yeah — Deke says it's a Harshbarger — circa 1830 or so, and that he would pay whoever owns it $2000, even if I couldn't fix it."

Daniel shook his head. "Tempting as the offer is, I believe not. You were able to repair it? I wound it, but nothing happened."

"Glad you didn't try too hard," Barney grinned. "Oddest thing. I opened her up and there was a letter in the back — it's sealed with wax, so I didn't open it, but I gotta admit, I'm dying to know what it says. It's addressed to Carolyn... could that be the lady who committed suicide in your house a hundred years ago? Anyway, I took out the note, and gave her a thorough cleaning and oiling — fixed the hinge here in front — it was loose..." he pointed. "...And she runs fine now. Gave her a good polish with lemon oil, too. Here... we're almost at one o'clock... just listen to it chime!"

After listening to the clock — the chimes as pure as the day the clock was made, Daniel paid Barney Mason and put the letter in his pocket, ignoring Barney's hints about wanting to know what it said, and departed the shop, hoping fervently that Carolyn would be back home for him to give her the note.

XXX

Thursday night's dinner and evening were a carbon-copy of the day before. No one felt much like eating, the kids did their homework and took their baths with no fussing, and were in bed, worn out, fifteen minutes earlier than usual. Daniel tried to keep up a pretense that all was normal, but Martha, though she didn't question the seaman, gave him the fish eye half the night, and twice looked like she ALMOST wanted to ask him something, but then thought better of it.

Finally, the Captain retired for the night. At least, he went to his room. Once there, he wandered over to the telescope and peered out it at the bulbous moon, wondering if Carolyn was still on this plane. If she could see the moon. He stood back from the device and stared out to the beach. Perhaps she was around, but sulking invisibly? He did not sense Mrs. Muir, but he had never claimed to be a sensitive, or whatever you called people who claimed to be able to detect spirits. Up until recently, he had simply thought those who professed such things to be too familiar with another sort of spirits.

Not sure if she could hear, he spoke to the night sky. "Mrs. Muir? Carolyn? I am sorry. I had no idea the gazebo meant so much to you. I should have waited to tear it down, but I would have torn it down in any case, after explaining to you, had you been here. It was dangerous. Candy was nearly hurt. I couldn't risk there being another incident, one that turned out to have more dire consequences. Blast it, woman. I'm apologizing, that's something I seldom do. You could have the decency to show up and reject it in person, though I wish you would accept it. I do not even know why the thing matters to you so much." He paused. "Would you say something, Madam?" There was only silence. "Blasted, infernal females."

On that sour note, Daniel got ready for bed, but it was useless. He could no more sleep than he could conjure up his ghost. Around midnight, he gave up and began pacing. However, Captain Gregg was not one to waste time. He needed to do something, to formulate a plan. With that in mind, he retrieved the phone book and began making notes. If only stores were open at any time you needed them to be! He could use an ensign or some other lowly seaman to order to get what he required immediately, but if he had one of those, he would not be in Gull Cottage. He would rather be where he was.

By morning, the Captain knew what he was going to do.

As soon as the children got into Betty Coburn's sedan to go to school, Daniel told Martha he had an errand in Keystone and would return as soon as possible. A few hours later, the sound of hammering alerted the older woman to the fact that her boss was home. When she looked out, she could see him working by the foundation, apparently erecting a new gazebo. Chalking it up to just one more odd thing, she simply made sure Mr. Gregg was kept supplied with water and brought him food at the appropriate times. He did not even pause when the kids arrived at home and only ate supper because Martha insisted. The moment that was over, he went back out, turning on the car headlights to illumine his work area.

At eight-oh-two, the final nail was in place. As he lowered the hammer with satisfaction, a voice he had never thought to hear again said, "Well, it's not mine, but I suppose it will do. But, if you didn't want a gazebo, why did you put up another one?"

Daniel turned to see Carolyn standing less than a foot away. "Are you back then?"

"I wasn't leaving. I just needed time. Why did you do it?" Her green eyes were filled with confusion.

"We need to talk." Daniel's tone was weary; he was exhausted. "Would you care to try out the thing?" He nodded at the building.

When they had taken seats on the built-in benches, he explained what had happened with Candy. Immediately, Carolyn was contrite. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"I tried to tell you," he pointed out.

"And, I wouldn't listen," she admitted. "But, couldn't it have waited until I had returned?"

"I wasn't thinking, not about you, anyway," the seaman looked a bit abashed. "Just about protecting my children. And I had no idea when you would get back."

There was a moment of silence, and then Carolyn sighed. "Fair enough. I do appreciate all the effort it took to rebuild this one. It's just..."

"What?"

"My father built the other one for his wedding to my mother. Robert's wretched family stole everything else I had left of theirs. The gazebo — it was all that remained to remember them by. I could come out here and feel closer to Mama and Father. Even when I was — alive, it did that for me. It was my refuge when Robert became — unbearable."

"He was not—?"

"All his kindness ceased when he had my dowry secured. He never struck me. I would have killed him, but one's mind and emotions can be harmed as well as the body."

"True enough," Daniel agreed, wishing he could take her in his arms. "I do promise to let you know in the future if I must alter anything around here, and not just spring it on you."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Now, would you like to go inside and see the children? They have missed you terribly."

"Yes, I would."

"It's been lonely, tucking them in without you."

Though obviously pleased, the ghost did not comment as she followed him indoors.

XXX

Martha looked up from her knitting and saw the Captain's smiling face. "The kids just went upstairs, Captain. They said they were about ready to be tucked in bed."

"Bed?" Daniel and Carolyn said together, though of course Martha couldn't hear her. "It's only eight-thirty, Martha."

"I know, but they said there was no reason to stay up... Say, you look more cheerful. Did you finish the gazebo, Captain?"

He nodded. "The wood needs to be treated so it won't rot, but yes," he said, cheerfully.

"Crazy thing to be doing this time of night, if you ask me. Is that all?" Martha peered at him over the top of her glasses. "You look tired, but it seems to me you feel better. Come to think of it, I feel better, too."

"I feel FANTASTIC!" he grinned. "Pardon me, Martha. I think we... I'll go up and see the children now." A moment later he had left the room and was climbing the stairs, two at a time.

Carolyn considered simply popping, but decided to go the mortal way, albeit invisibly.

As the Captain entered the nursery, the kids looked up reflexively. Their sad faces tore Carolyn's heart and she silently blasted herself for the pain she had inadvertently inflicted on them. She promised herself that no matter how annoyed she might get with their dad, she would try to put them first in the future.

Just then, they saw her appear. The transformation to their faces was immediate and astounding. "You're back! Did you see the gazebo?"

"Yes, I am, and yes. It's absolutely lovely," Carolyn smiled, a slight catch in her voice. _How had these silly humans gotten so deeply into her heart?_

"You're sure?" The seaman asked. "As I said the wood needs to be treated — that works better if we consider it a yearly project, by the way — maybe finding a cover for it in the winter... or we can paint it... you can choose the color."

The ghost shook her head. "No. I love it just as it is. Natural wood is best, I believe. My mother would be pleased also, I think. She always used to quote Ecclesiastes — about everything having its place. You know; 'To everything there is a season?' I liked the line about "A time to get, and a time to lose?" I guess it was time for the gazebo to go — we can't have our girl or boy getting hurt, can we?" She gazed at the children fondly. "I'm so glad to be home!"

"Time..." the seaman snapped his fingers. "You just reminded me!" For a moment he looked like he wanted to hug her. "Stay right here, promise? I have... that is the children and I have another surprise for you."

"Captain, my new gazebo was quite enough of a surprise..." she started, but he was out of the room.

"Don't worry, it's a GOOD surprise this time," Jonathan winked, and Candy jumped up and down.

"Just wait until you see!"

Though he was only gone a couple of minutes, the wait seemed unbearably long for the expectant family. As the Captain entered the nursery carrying the newly repaired clock, he was rewarded with the sight of Carolyn's expression as it changed from puzzlement to recognition to delight.

"Mama's clock! It's been missing for — more than a hundred years!" Carolyn gasped. "Where on Earth..."

"It was in the wall!" Both children were now dancing up and down.

"Candy found it!" said Jonathan.

"But I wasn't looking for it..." the little girl said honestly. "We were playing hide and seek in the guest room. In the closet! I bumped into a secret compartment, and there it was."

"We were going to hang it on the wall, but it didn't run," Jonathan continued. "So Daddy took it to town and got it fixed."

"I'm not surprised," said Carolyn, stroking the front of the clock lovingly. "They must have had to install all new works."

Daniel shook his head. "It was cleaned and oiled, and polished, but this was the main problem." Reaching into his pocket, he held out the aged envelope with the crumbling wax seal on the back. "This was inside the clock. It has your name on it. I didn't open it. I saved it... and rather hoped YOU would when and... If you came back to me... us." Still cradling the clock with one hand, he handed her the old envelope.

With an utterly bemused expression, Carolyn took the envelope. "Why would Mama leave me a note, and then hide it?" No one had any answer as she very carefully withdrew the letter. The first time she read it, the words did not even matter. It was simply good to see her mother's writing once again. Then, she read it through, seeing what the flowery script said, but it still did not make any sense to her. "It's like a riddle, but I don't understand..."

_When comes the time that you find love, you must lose it to win. Do not despair; miracles come when you seem lost._

The three of them shook their heads.

"I LOVE mysteries," said Candy. "But I have no idea what your mother means by what she wrote!"

"I dunno either, Dad Mrs. Muir," Jonathan added, and yawned. "I like jokes and stuff like that better than mysteries."

"Tonight, I don't care," Carolyn said, spiriting the note into her pocket. "What a wonderful evening this has been! I have a new gazebo, built with... love, my mama's clock, and I am home again. That's all I need!"

The children beamed at each other and the adults.

"Gull Cottage feels like a home again," Candy declared.

Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, all warm and cozy — like our first night here, and all the ones since then."

"Aye," Daniel said, nodding his head and giving Carolyn an intense look. Then he seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. "Children... bedtime," he said, resting the clock on the floor, next to the glass fronted bookcase.

"Aww, DAD!" came their simultaneous shout. "Mrs. Muir just got home!"

"And home is where I am staying," she answered, giving them a little smile. "I won't leave again, I promise."

"Cross your heart and hope to... oh, blast!" said Jonathan. "I forgot you can't do that anymore. Sorry."

"No offense taken," she grinned. "Now, spit-spot into bed both of you. I'll be here to wake you in the morning."

"I'm gonna sleep fast, then," Candy grinned.

"Me, too, faster," Jonathan chimed in, not to be outdone.

Ruffling their hair gently, Daniel said, "Then get to it, mates." He turned once more to Carolyn. "Can you please wait for me in my cabin? I really do need to say good night to Martha, then would you care to join me in a welcome home glass of Madeira... my dear?"

"I'd love it," she smiled.

END CHAPTER TWO 


	3. Chapter 3

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

Mary and Amanda

Chapter Three

Life in Gull Cottage returned to "normal," for the most part. Just before Candy and Jonathan's birthdays in November, Daniel's Uncle Arnold paused in his travels to visit and assure himself that the little family was doing all right. Later, Claymore referred two antique hounds to Daniel in hopes that they would buy something from Gull Cottage and he would reap a commission.

One afternoon in mid-November, Daniel was listening to Carolyn with one ear while he did some work.

"You know, Captain, I think we're on the verge of considering this trial period to be a success," the specter commented.

"What a relief, since I have paid Claymore a great deal of money in mortgage payments — not to mention buying Gull Cottage!" the seaman chuckled.

"A good point," she returned easily. "But... _That no-good, miserable excuse for a rat!"_

"Beg pardon?" Daniel asked in confusion.

"Captain, it looks like Claymore didn't learn his lesson with the last antiquers. He's got another one coming up the walk."

"I made it perfectly clear last time that not one stick of furniture or anything else is for sale in this house," Daniel scowled. "And, even were it, he would not get a dime from the transaction. Blast. I'm glad the children are in school for the next hour or so."

"Oh?"

"You may be about to get an education is seaman's language, my dear, if you'll forgive me."

"As if I haven't heard it before?"

Invisibly, she followed the Captain downstairs just as Martha was opening the door. "We don't want to buy or sell anything," the stalwart housekeeper informed Claymore and a nice, but slightly nervous seeming young man.

"Oh, we aren't buying or selling," the stranger said quickly. "I'm Paul Wilkie. I'm a student of architecture and was hoping I could take some photos of this place."

"I'm sorry," the Captain stated firmly, "but this is my home, and I have no desire to have it displayed in some magazine."

"I understand, but I'm not with a magazine," Paul assured him. "I just admire such artistic, old places and keep a collection of snapshots of the finest examples I can find." He added, "I did pay Mr. Muir a nice sum for the tour and the right to take a few pictures."

"Claymore, you money-grubbing dolt," Carolyn hissed; though only Daniel could hear. "It's even less your house now than it ever was."

Biting back both a cutting remark and a chuckle, Daniel glared at Claymore, then addressed himself to Mr. Wilkie, "Sir, I am sorry for your trouble, but Mr. Muir has no right to do such a thing. I now own Gull Cottage."

"Please. I promise not to be in your way. I just want to look around a little bit," Paul Wilkie implored. "Just give me twenty minutes."

"Really, sir, I'm quite busy," Daniel frowned.

"You'll get back to work more quickly if you let me take the pictures than if I have to keep begging you to let me," Paul pointed out.

Daniel turned an icy gaze on him. "If I decide that you will not take pictures, then you will not, nor will you waste even five minutes of my time further. However, I will allow you TEN minutes. Then, you are done."

"Fifteen."

Daniel sighed. "Very well, but no more."

"I'll just w-wait in the car," Claymore stammered.

"No, Claymore. Come in. It's entirely too chilly for you to do that," the Captain said firmly, pulling the smaller man in the house by his shoulder.

The first few minutes went well enough, with the young man commenting on how fine a place Gull Cottage was, but as they reached the living room, Paul Wilkie looked up at Carolyn's portrait.

"Shame this place was wasted on such a missish, old maid," he remarked. "A face that sallow and — bland just ruins the lines of this room."

Claymore whimpered.

"I quite disagree. She — that is, her picture, is the perfect complement to this room. It is elegant," Daniel countered. He could feel Carolyn's eyes shooting daggers at the impertinent Mr. Wilkie.

"A nice seascape would work better," Paul argued, oblivious to the glass of water that was sailing in his direction. Claymore reached out to grab it, but the ghost's anger would not be denied, so that when the contents of the vessel drenched Mr. Wilkie, it appeared that her supposed nephew had done the deed.

"Why did you do that?" Paul asked, blinking away the water dripping from his eyes.

"I had just reached over to get my glass of water off the table, when I got a — muscle spasm. Just flared up out of nowhere. So sorry. It gets me now and then."

"Yes, I have seen you just jump for no reason, from time to time," Daniel drawled. "Now, time is getting away from us. If you wish to continue, come along. Otherwise..."

"Oh, I do," Paul nodded grimly. As he started to follow Daniel, a throw rug darted out from under his feet and he landed on his backside.

"The floor must still be slippery," Daniel matter-of-factly said, reaching down to help his unwanted guest up.

"The rug?"

The Captain shrugged.

"You know, I'm starting to get the sense that there's a hostile force here," Paul mused, inciting a yelp from Claymore.

"How perceptive," Daniel said. "I've only had to tell you over and over again that you are not wanted for you to realize that. Bravo." He looked at his watch. "Your time is up, Mr. Wilkie."

"Really, Mr. Gregg — just a few more minutes! Is there something wrong with saying that the woman in that portrait looks like she could scare crows, and I think it's a wonder she managed to catch a husband at all?"

That did it.

Before Wilkie could say another word, the flash bulb in his camera exploded with a large pop. Miracle of miracles, the flying shards of glass did not land on anyone.

"Oh, my..." Claymore started edging toward the door again, but as he passed the couch where Wilkie's bag of photographer's equipment was, the rest of the flash bulbs started exploding where they were.

"How... how..." Wilkie started to say, and then, outside, thunder crashed.

"I believe that is your cue to leave, Mister Wilkie," Daniel said grimly.

"In the rain?"

"It isn't raining yet," the seaman answered, picking up Wilkie's bag and thrusting it at him. "If you hurry, you can get back into town before it really starts pouring. You better hurry. You know the road out this way isn't paved."

"I... I didn't drive..." Wilkie protested. "Mr. Muir did. We'll have to wait until the storm stops."

Obligingly, the thunder ceased.

"Now that's the cue for you BOTH to leave," Daniel continued.

"But..."

"Claymore... Mister Wilkie OUT!" Daniel roared.

"Okay, okay..." the two men mumbled, and as they stepped out onto the front porch, Daniel slammed the door after them.

"Nice of the thunder to stop thundering so quickly," Martha observed from where she had come in from the kitchen. "You seem to have the weather at your beck and call, Captain."

Carolyn raised her eyebrow and then giggled. "With a little invisible help, perhaps."

"I suppose," the Captain said, answering them both at once. "At least that wharf rat is gone!"

XXX

The kids were outraged to hear how Mr. Wilkie had insulted their ghost and made a nuisance of himself, but sorry to have missed the show. Their dad shrugged and said he wasn't willing to put up with the loudmouthed, opinionated fool a second time so they could catch an encore. They'd have to make do with going to the movie in town that evening, which they had planned to do anyway.

Around eight, as she waited for the family to come home, Carolyn was sure she heard a noise coming from the basement. There had never been rats in Gull Cottage — well, not four-legged ones. Robert's relatives were another matter. The Captain would not be happy if they had to call an exterminator, she thought as she headed to check it out.

It wasn't a rodent, but it was a rat, she concluded in two seconds flat as she beheld Paul Wilkie slipping out of the underground room. She should have known he was up to something more than taking pictures. So much for her days of pulling what Claymore had called "little ghosties" being over with.

Her first line of defense was unleashing an unearthly howl. Instead of looking frightened, Mr. Wilkie smugly looked satisfied. "You can come on out, Mrs. Muir. I know you're haunting."

_You'll think haunting_, she grimaced.

Mr. Wilkie continued to ask her to show herself. So wrapped up was he in his pleas that he never saw the stream of soda pop unleashed from two shaken bottles that thoroughly drenched him, until it was too late. As he tried to blink the liquid from his eyes, Carolyn hefted a sack of flour and socked him with it, followed by pepper in the face, and a tomato.

Wilkie stumbled into the hallway leading to the living room — still calling in a daze for Mrs. Muir.

"This fellow is a glutton for punishment," Carolyn murmured, tripping him. Paul Wilkie fell to the floor and much to her surprise; Carolyn saw a smile spread over his unconscious face.

XXX

Ten minutes later, Carolyn heard the sound of the key in the latch, and the door opening.

"Can we have ice cream before we go to bed?" she heard Candy ask.

"Eating sweets before bed is a sure way for you NOT to go to sleep," Martha started.

"Right — either the sugar keeps you awake, or you have bad dreams," the Captain added. "Last time I let you two do that, you dreamed that..." Reaching the living room, he turned on the light.

"...There's a strange man on the floor..." Candy finished.

"It wasn't a man, it was a dragon," said Daniel.

"It looks like a man to me..." Jonathan peered at him. "Who is it?"

"It appears you have gotten your wish, kids," Daniel remarked dryly. "This is Paul Wilkie."

"I knew I didn't like his looks this afternoon, Mr. Gregg," Martha growled. "He broke in here tonight! Planning to rob the place, no doubt!"

"Betcha Mrs. Muir caught him," Candy blurted out.

"The man's delirious," the Captain said quickly, covering for his daughter's misspeak.

The housekeeper scratched her head. "He didn't say anything... Candy did."

"Martha..." Daniel continued. "Get the children upstairs. They don't need to see me toss Mr. Wilkie out on his a... ear."

"Right," she nodded. "Candy, Jonathan, upstairs, NOW."

"Aww! We're gonna miss all the fun!" Candy protested.

"Yeah," Jonathan chimed in. "This will be a lot better than the movie!"

"Children..." Daniel said warningly, now grabbing hold of Wilkie's collar and dragging him to his feet. "Do what you are told, please."

As the disappointed kids left the room, Carolyn appeared, to the seaman's eyes only.

"I caught him breaking in through the cellar, Captain," she said quietly. "I had to do something."

Daniel nodded. "Mister Wilkie, I just caught you red-handed, in my house. Would you care to say anything in your defense before I call the police?"

"Yes," Wilkie said, trying to dust off a little of the mess on his face. "Tonight I have been assaulted, bashed about the head, cannon-balled with tomatoes, doused over the head with flour... would you like me to go through the rest of the alphabet? Captain, you have a ghost here!"

Invisibly, Carolyn crossed her arms as she met Daniel's eyes. "He did call my name before I — did all that."

The Captain's lips thinned. "Perhaps I should call the men in white coats in lieu of the police. Or did you have a home in an asylum already and are merely AWOL?"

Wilkie shook his head violently. "No, no, no... Really, Captain — you have to hear me out. Give me ten minutes, please — with no thundering!"

Taking a deep breath, rubbing his beard and glancing at Carolyn, who nodded, he did the same. "Ten minutes... No more. In the kitchen. I don't want to take a chance of you disturbing my children."

XXX

In the kitchen, the Captain watched as Paul sat down on one of the chairs, doing his best not to spread any more flour over the kitchen floor. The housekeeper had returned, and reluctantly, had put a cup of warmed up coffee from that morning in front of their unexpected guest.

"Now, then..." the seaman started, trying not to glance at Carolyn, who was perched on the island counter in the kitchen. "What, precisely are you doing back here? I asked you this afternoon to leave."

"Oh, I had to come back, Captain... Sir..." Wilkie added hastily. "You see, I'm not really a student of architecture. I'm a para-psychologist. I look for ghosts."

"Someone pays you to do that?" Daniel asked in the most condescending tone he could muster.

"Um, well Sort of," Wilkie answered. "I teach classes at the University of Maine. That's why I am here, really. You see if I can show my superiors a real live ghost, so to speak, they would have no choice to expand my department." He looked around, carefully. "That's why I was making all those comments earlier. I want Carolyn Muir to show herself! I know she's here! Everyone knows ghosts are more nocturnal creatures. That's why I came back tonight. If I can get the other members of the faculty at my college to come out, why..."

"Wilkie," Daniel growled, "I don't want you here..."

"I claim the right to return in the name of understanding and knowledge! How can you refuse me?"

"Simple. I refuse. Besides, if you and your ilk show up, again, it will be a total invasion of my privacy."

"Mister Gregg..." A cold look came over Wilkie's face. "The best way to secure privacy for you and yours is to let me back, and let me find that sea witch of a ghost."

The lights flickered on and off in the kitchen.

"See! See! I told you! She's here!" Wilkie proclaimed triumphantly.

"Mister Gregg, are you sure you are all right?" Martha appeared in the kitchen doorway and came into the kitchen again.

"Yes, Martha. As for you..." the Captain went on, shooting a fast look at Carolyn, "...what you are saying is sheer, unadulterated nonsense. As for those flickers just now, this house is quite old, you know. We often have little power surges like that."

"Captain... May I call you Captain? Listen to me. I've looked for a house like this for years and..."

"As I have!" Daniel said. His voice was gaining in volume. "And I won't have it invaded by a bunch of nosy busybodies, ghost hunters and the press!"

Wilkie went on as if Daniel hadn't spoken. "Let me bring out two men — the senior faculty. Let us look for the ghost. Make her show up. Just for educational reasons, you understand. We'll take a few pictures, I will prove that ghosts DO exist, and that will be the end of it. If not, I will still find my ghost sooner or later; because I will call all the newspapers and magazines I can think of and I guarantee you will have newsmen camped on your lawn tomorrow morning. And they won't be nearly as nice as I have been about the thrashing I received tonight... by your GHOST."

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel could swear he saw Carolyn grow pale and turn almost transparent. Martha glared at the visitor and looked like she wished she had a cast iron skillet in her hand.

"You don't leave me much of a choice, do you?"

"I hope not."

"And what if this..."

"...Ghost," Martha put in.

"...Ghost doesn't show up? Are you willing to give up this nonsense and leave us alone?"

"Trust me, Mr. Gregg. I'll get the old bag to show up," he smirked.

Over Wilkie's shoulder, Carolyn suddenly looked very solid to Daniel, and she was reaching for the rolling pin Martha had left on the counter. He gave her a look that had stopped more than one errant subordinate his time, and she pulled her hand away.

"Mister Wilkie, get out of my house. I'll see you tomorrow night, but I guarantee, you are not going to find a thing."

"That's what you think..." Wilkie said grimly, and stood up, ready to leave. "...And one way or another, I am going to prove it."

XXX

After Mr. Wilkie left, Daniel asked Martha to check on the children. He needed to think. The moment the housekeeper was out of the room, Carolyn appeared. "What does that... that I'm too much of a lady to say what he is — think I am? A bat? Nocturnal creature, indeed."

"He's clearly an idiot, with absolutely no taste in women," Daniel tried to soothe her. "But, that is neither here nor there, my dear. We have to think how to deal with him, now."

"I thought he was just a burglar," she sighed, resting her chin on one hand. "And Scruffy is too much of a puppy to deal with one of those."

Daniel nodded tiredly. "It was a commendable thought, Dear Lady. I'll teach you how to use the phone and if such an incident ever happens again, you can simply call the police."

"I know how to use the phone. But how would you explain a woman's voice coming from here? Besides, have you seen Schooner Bay's police department?"

The Captain thought for a moment. "You're right about that, too. But, your assault of our burglar did not help matters any. How did he get in?"

"Through the cellar. He must have used the coal chute."

"That's our next project, nailing that shut."

"But first, we get rid of Mr. Wilkie. Now, I was thinking—" Carolyn broke off, abruptly vanishing as Martha knocked on the bedroom door.

"Come in, Martha," Daniel called.

The door swung open to let her enter. Martha looked around. "I thought I heard voices."

"Not you, too, Martha," Daniel said. "I was just talking to myself — about this problem. I've found that stating the issues aloud can be most—"

"Excuse me, sir. I might have been born at night, but it wasn't last night," Martha interrupted him. "Would you cut the bilge? I've suspected for weeks that there's something going on around here, what with you getting a bee in your bonnet to build a gazebo and the house suddenly feeling like a home after that, the kids talking about Mrs. Muir, and you talking to yourself, from time to time." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Now, this. I think if I'm going to be living here, I have a right to know. It's obvious she's not a mean ghost."

Daniel let out a breath. He had hated keeping it a secret anyway. "Well, you said when she was ready, she would know," he commented to thin air.

Carolyn appeared beside the Captain. "And she must be. It's nice to officially meet you, Miss Grant."

Martha blinked. "You really are here! I knew it, but, I didn't know it, you know? Oh, you can call me Martha. No need to be formal. The kids know, right?"

"They met me the first day you came here — sort of by accident. I think children are more open to seeing beings like me," Carolyn shrugged.

"And, I — inadvertently insulted her, so she came out to set me straight," the Captain chuckled, reaching up to tweak one ear nervously.

"I hope you weren't calling her all those hideous things Mr. Wilkie did. You are very pretty," Martha stated, looking first at her boss, then at the ghost.

"I did not. I was annoyed by her behavior, not her looks."

"Thank you, Martha."

Together, Daniel and Carolyn explained to Martha what had really been going on for the last few weeks, from their almost moving out on the first night through the present, and when they were through, Martha nodded and tapped her chin.

"Well, now that I'm in the club, what are we going to do about this... invasion?" Martha huffed. "We can't let this secret get splashed on some scandal sheet or have reporters or researchers tromping in and out. It will ruin the floors."

"We were discussing that before you came in and cornered me," Daniel said. "I fear that Mrs. Muir's attempts to prevent an unlawful entry only got us in deeper."

"But I want to help clean up the mess," Carolyn added. "Both messes."

"I'd have hit him with something harder than a sack of flour," Martha said grimly.

"I could do that, tomorrow night," Carolyn mused. "Or—"

"No," the Captain interjected. "I want you to be very quiet. My goal is to bore them into insensibility. If absolutely nothing happens, then it will look like nothing more than a wild goose chase."

"So, he might say I was just taking a night off. Or that I need the full moon. We have to quash this in the bud," Carolyn contended.

"Maybe we could make him look like an idiot," Martha suggested. "Like when Perry Mason discredits a witness and makes their whole testimony look unreliable."

"Making him look like an idiot shouldn't be too hard. He is one," Daniel grumbled. "What school does he work for again? I want to be sure neither Jonathan nor Candy ever attends it."

"The University of Maine, I believe," said Carolyn. "Personally, I would like to go find him and haunt him until he can't see straight. I'll give him a ghost!"

"No. We cannot give him what he wants. Do that and we'll never be rid of him," Daniel argued.

"If I do it at the Inn, he'll just think that they're one of the haunted ones. Let whoever runs it now worry about convincing him and any officials foolish enough to chase after his tales that it's ghost-free," Carolyn contended.

Daniel shook his head. "I wouldn't wish Wilkie off on anyone else. Besides, he has seen your portrait — he knows what you look like. He'd just figure you followed him. He'd be even more determined."

"Couldn't we just barricade the door?" Martha asked. "This is private property, after all."

"And hold him and his friends off with a shotgun," Carolyn added. "I used to have one here in the house. Never liked the blasted things..." She bit her lip. "No... I got rid of it after Robert died."

"I don't hold with firearms in the house either," Daniel smiled at her. "I gave mine away after I retired from the Navy. I didn't want to see Candy or Jonathan even accidentally get hold of them."

"Do you have a sword? Or a saber?" Carolyn mused. "You could make one of those impressive."

"Actually, I do, but I would look like the one in need of a straight-jacket should I greet guests with one in hand."

Martha laughed. "I like the image, Captain! I can just SEE — well, until you bought the house — Claymore's face if you greeted HIM with a sword and belaying pin!" Then her face turned serious. "I guess the important thing is to remember there is no problem we can't solve — nothing we can't take care of if we put our minds to it." She tapped her chin. "He's bringing the group he is trying to convince tomorrow night, right?"

"Correct."

"As I said, he thinks I am more active at night." Carolyn made a face.

"Nonsense. You are a very quiet ghost... aside from a few thunderstorms," Martha winked. "I was just wishing it wasn't a weekend. My next suggestion would be to call Jacob Finley — you know — the editor of the _Schooner Bay Beacon_. Get him to run a story on Wilkie. He'd leave town fast enough. But the _Beacon_ office is closed, and nobody can get hold of Finley on the weekends. Come to think of it, he's hard to get hold of even when the office is supposed to be open."

"That weasel had better hope I never get hold of him," Carolyn snapped.

Daniel and his housekeeper snuck a look at each other. Then the Captain asked carefully, "Why?"

"Because it was HIS grandfather, Lucius Finley, who reported my death as a suicide. He couldn't even pronounce the word, called it _su-ee-cide_. Sounds more like a pig killing." She sniffed disdainfully. "But, however it was pronounced, it was the wrong story. I just kicked the dratted gas heater with my dratted foot! Yet, he was all over the story, eager to run down my name because I told him what he could do with his offer to buy Gull Cottage after Robert died. The _Beacon_ wouldn't know a legitimate story if it bit Lucius Finley."

"But it's the truth — if we could prove it, the paper would have to print a retraction," Daniel muttered. "Finley would have no choice. Hmm..."

"You're getting off the track, Captain," Martha said practically. "We need to do something now — before every rumor-mongering person in twenty miles gets out here — or worse yet, all the single ladies come blazing out here, offering to "help," which wouldn't be helping at all. Have I ever told you how many times strange women have come up to me asking how you are doing? Wondering if you could use a night off with adult company? We need to stop this now, and I'm stumped." She looked at her watch. "Blast. We could take all night figuring this out and I wanted to see my movie... but this is more important."

Daniel shook his head. "Maybe we're thinking too hard. Perhaps we could use a breather? What movie, Martha?"

"Oh, one of my favorites, Captain!" Martha grinned. _"Gaslight_ — with Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer and Joseph Cotten." A slow smile blossomed on her face. "Say... _Gaslight!_ That's it! In it, Boyer tries to convince Ingrid she's nuts. Why don't we do the same with Paul Wilkie?"

A wide smile appeared on Daniel's face, but Carolyn looked puzzled. "I'm a little behind the times, I'm afraid. I haven't seen very many movies... well, none, actually. Not at the movie house."

"None at all?" Martha looked surprised. "If I could be invisible, and had tons of time on my hands like you, I'd be there every night!" She made a face. "Well, maybe not, if the movie was _The Ghost and Mr. Chicken _— that's the one we saw this evening." She nodded to Carolyn and her employer. "What do you say we go down and pop some corn, and watch the movie? I bet that will give us some ideas. We'll take notes. Then about midnight, we'll go to work on Wilkie." She laughed. "Come to think of it, there were a couple of tricks in _Mr._ _Chicken _I think we can use, too."

"Yes..." Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Give him ghostly tricks, but just standard cinematic ones? Very contrived things. Pity neither _Blithe Spirit_ nor _Topper _is on tonight."

"Oh... I don't know..." Martha mused. "Charlie-boy did pretty well, considering he was doing it all himself — without any real ghostly trickery to help him. At least we can look at the movie. Maybe if we let our minds float, we can think of something more to do to that guy."

"Oh, I do not need a movie for that, my good ladies," Daniel chuckled. "I was thinking that I could find a keel to haul him on, and then run him up a mizzenmast."

"We're a bit light on mizzenmasts around here," Martha scolded. "Besides, how would it look? We can't have you teaching your children any bad habits."

"Speaking of which, we need to fill them in on what's going on," Carolyn added. "They need to know. They might even be able to help, in some small way."

"They would love that," Martha chortled. "Especially Jonathan."

"I would, too!" a small, feminine voice blurted out from just behind the door.

"My word, I think we might have more ghosts," Daniel commented as he rose and opened the door. Standing there in their slippers and robes were Candy and Jonathan.

"Hi, Dad!" they chorused.

"I know we aren't supposed to eavesdrop, but we knew something was up, and Mrs. Muir is our friend," Candy rushed to say, not pausing to breathe once.

"And it's neat that Martha knows about her," her brother chimed in.

"And just how long have you been standing there?" he asked, trying to sound stern and failing utterly.

"Just long enough for you to say you want to drive that Mr. Wilkie nutty," said Jonathan.

"Or just drive him AWAY," Candy added. "Can we help? Can we?"

"We'll keep you company watching the movie," said Jonathan. "We're wide awake..."

"And we can take notes, like in school," his sister put in. "So you guys don't forget anything. Mrs. Muir might, if she's never seen a movie before."

"I have watched television!" Carolyn protested. "I've stayed up and watched with Martha — she just didn't know it. I just haven't been to the movie house."

"But you could miss something if we don't help," Jonathan insisted. "So can... I mean, may we?"

"One more reason to want to run Wilkie off. His methods of persuasion are rubbing off on my children; it's easier to say 'yes' than argue," Daniel pretended to grumble under his breath. "Very well, but if you start to get sleepy, it's bed for you, immediately, and regardless, you will be there by eleven."

"Okay," they nodded happily.

"Betcha you get tired before WE do," Jonathan commented.

"Not counting Mrs. Muir!" Candy interjected, and the family all laughed.

XXX

At breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Muir looked like the cat that had eaten both the canary and licked up the cream.

"What have you been up to?" the Captain asked sternly.

"Oh, just amusing myself," she replied, studying her nails. "Mr. Wilkie did not get a wink of sleep last night."

"Madam, I told you—" he began.

"I did not do anything overtly ghostly," she defended herself. "I just amplified all the common noises around the inn, and inside it, then made his blankets too hot, then the room too cold. And the streetlights might have gotten a little brighter. And the room next to his was empty, so I paced through it, in high heels."

Daniel shook his head.

"I read somewhere that humans are more prone to hallucinating when they are sleep deprived, and if he's already edgy, he's more apt to look — cuckoo — than if he's rested and calm," Carolyn said.

"She's right," Martha nodded as she set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of the Captain.

"Wonderful. Now that you are in on the secret, I'm outnumbered," he pretended to complain.

"Oh, hush," Carolyn teased. "I'd still be right if Martha was 'Martin the butler'."

"Which reminds me, now that I know about you, should I make you breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner?" Martha asked with a frown. "And I want to thank you for all the help you've given me over these past weeks with my housework."

"It was no trouble," Carolyn smiled. "And, no. I can't eat. I can manage to drink, now and then, but I don't HAVE to."

"Well, when the kids don't want to drink their orange juice, maybe you could indulge. If they see you drink it, maybe it would be groovy," Martha commented.

"Where are they?" Carolyn asked.

"Sleeping in. They did have a late night, despite their protests of not being tired when we tucked them in," Daniel grinned. "Scamps did have some good ideas on how to scare a ghost hunter. I don't know whether to be impressed by that or disturbed."

"Impressed for now. Disturbed if the time when you need to be arrives," Carolyn suggested.

"It's probably payback for the gray hairs you gave your aunt," Martha informed him.

"I was a perfect angel," Daniel protested.

"Sure you were," Carolyn nodded. "Now, having swallowed that fish story, I think I'll go see what else Claymore can sell me."

"You can do that later. I need help getting ready for our guests," Martha said.

XXX

The day flew by. When the kids got up, they skipped cartoons. Helping to make their house extra haunted was more fun. The only break in the day came when Claymore called to apologize, profusely, for inflicting Mr. Wilkie on them and to promise never, ever to do such a thing again, as long as he lived — or longer.

Right at seven, the trio from the University arrived. Daniel had to admit to himself that Paul looked rather worn out and jumpy. After the Professors Hewitt and Maxwell were introduced, the unwanted guests took their seats in the living room and prepared to wait.

Nervously, Mr. Wilkie got to his feet and boldly proclaimed, "Gentlemen, tonight is one of the most important events of human history. Just as Ponce de Leon searched for the fountain of youth and Diogenes quested for an honest man, I have sought proof of the existence of ghosts, and fate has sent me to this place."

Professor Hewitt leaned over to whisper to Daniel, "I could have sent him somewhere years ago. I know a good shrink or two."

Daniel raised a brow. "I could recommend Ryan McNally." In a more audible tone, the Captain said, "You know, I have wondered if we have the right Wilkie here. It is said that Wilkie Collins believed himself to be haunted by a doppelganger he called Ghost Wilkie. Of course, he had been unfortunately addicted to opiate drugs, much as Samuel Taylor Coleridge was."

"Hmm. Now that does make me wonder about this Wilkie!" Maxwell commented, and looked at his watch. For long moments, nothing happened at all.

"Ah, Mr. Gregg, do you think that perhaps the old girl might have some kind of affection for you?" Mr. Wilkie suggested tentatively. "Like a crush? Maybe you could — coax her out."

"Why would she?" the seaman glared. "Oh, very well." He looked up at the picture. "Here, ghost, ghost. Here, ghost, ghost."

"Uh, it might be better to use her name?" Mr. Wilkie advised.

"Oh, sorry. You might be right. Mrs. Muir, come here. Oh, Mrs. Muir?" He tried a whistle, such as he might use to call Scruffy.

From her perch on the window seat, Carolyn gave him a look. For his ears only, she drawled, "Really, Captain, you have to work on your technique if you want a girl to be interested."

Daniel shrugged. "I tried."

Right on cue, there was a rolling, rattling sound from overhead, followed by a bump-bump-bump noise.

"Aha! There! I knew you could do it. She's upstairs!" As Paul urged his colleagues to their feet, a third sound was added.

"Told you my truck was faster than that car, even if it is a race car," Jonathan's voice declared loudly.

The two senior faculty members stared at Paul. "I'm so sorry, gentlemen," the Captain apologized. "I asked the children to stay out of the way and play in their room."

"No problem, Captain," Hewitt assured him as they resumed their seats.

Minutes lagged by during which Paul tried to insult Carolyn into appearing. Professor Maxwell commented that he never got a date by calling a girl an "old bag" or a "witch."

Suddenly, there was a streak of white charging through the room.

"There she goes! After her!" Wilkie yelped.

When he caught the white sheet, his face fell moments before Martha came up behind him. "Thank you for catching the little twerp. I was folding laundry and Scruffy got it in his head that he needed a towel. Before I knew it, he was gone with it."

Very sadly, Paul handed her the now not-so clean, white towel and then he frowned. "I know she's here, Captain. Why doesn't she show herself? Is she afraid of us?"

"I don't think ghosts like being insulted," Daniel said sarcastically. "That is, if there was a ghost here."

"I know there is!" Wilkie shouted. "Just look around this place! Emanations coming from all over the room! I can feel them! We could have a séance... draw her out..."

"I agreed to let you come here and have a... a... ghost watch," the Captain protested. "Not put on a circus exhibition."

"Really, Paul," Doctor Hewitt started. "There doesn't seem to be anything here..."

"Maybe you all can't feel it, but it's all around us!" Wilkie interrupted him. "You can't see her, but there are emanations of a presence! She is here, in this room! I must find her! I must!"

Martha sniffed. "I think that's the lemon oil I used on the furniture this afternoon. Smell sticks around a while."

Waving a hand, Carolyn lifted the vase Jonathan had painted in art class, letting it hover in midair.

"There!" Wilkie screamed. "On the mantle! That vase!"

Quickly, the vase settled back where it belonged, just as Maxwell and Hewitt turned around. Dashing over to it, Paul stared at the decoration fiercely. "Oh, come on... why did you..." He broke off. "Captain, order Mrs. Muir to lift it again."

Daniel shrugged. "It has been my experience that it is best not to "order" women — flesh or spirit — to do anything." Seeing the desperate look on the ghost hunter's face, he shrugged. "Perhaps I could ask politely, though." Clearing his throat, he said, "Mrs. Muir, would you lift the vase?" Nothing happened. "Please?"

They all watched the rather crude object d'art sit there.

"I guess a watched vase doesn't rise," Maxwell suggested blandly.

"Or the ghost just couldn't "get a rise" out if it!" Hewitt chortled.

More time dragged by. Paul sat in dejection between his either bored or amused bosses.

After a few more minutes, Carolyn drifted into the room appearing as a very, very faint shadow, only to Paul Wilkie. As she drifted through the room, Carolyn started to sing.

"_I'll be loving you, always. With a love that's true always..."_

"She's here!" Wilkie shouted. "Look! By the window! She's moving! She's coming closer!"

"I don't see anything," Hewitt blinked, peering around.

"Can't you hear her?" Paul exhorted. "She's singing... oh, what is that song called — da - da - da – da —_Always!_ That's it. She's singing _Always!"_

Maxwell snorted. "I think you have your spooks mixed up, Wilkie. That was Elvira in _Blithe Spirit._ She's not here either."

With a small 'pop' audible only to Wilkie, Carolyn disappeared and an instant later a piercing scream was heard from the second floor. Daniel, Wilkie, Hewitt and Maxwell flew up the stairs — Daniel in the lead. As they reached the top of the stairs there came a loud moan. Entering the nursery, they found Jonathan, standing in the middle of the floor, looking quite calm.

"Son..." Daniel said, frowning, seeing that the little boy obviously wasn't hurt or frightened. "Was that you screaming just now?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Why, may I ask?"

"Candy and I are having contests. See who can scream the loudest."

"But what was the moan?"

"I didn't moan, Dad."

"It's the ghost!" Wilkie crowed.

"Jonathan? Was it Candy?"

"I think she's in the bathroom."

"I guess you could moan in the bathroom..." Maxwell started. "Perhaps we better go see."

Then the sound of a typewriter tapping came from the Master Cabin. Without prompting, the group trotted into Daniel's room where Paul charged to the typewriter, sitting by itself on Daniel's desk.

"I don't see anyone," Hewitt remarked.

"But, Mrs. Muir has left us a message!" Paul exclaimed, yanking the sheet from the machine. Triumphantly, he began reading, "_'The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog'_." His expression faltered. "It doesn't matter. The important thing is that we have received a communication from beyond!"

"Or, from my daughter," Daniel said dryly, walking over to the closet and opening the door. "Candy?"

Sheepishly, the little girl looked up. "Hi, Dad." She stepped into the room.

"You didn't do that, did you?" Paul asked, hopelessly. "You didn't type the message? Please say it wasn't you."

Candy looked up at her father. "Dad? Will I be punished if I tell a lie?"

"You know you will be, lass. No television for a week."

Her eyes grew big. "Wow. Well, in that case, Dad, I'm sorry. I wanted to learn how to type. I was practicing."

"Are you sure?" Paul persisted. "Maybe — could you be a medium?"

Candy frowned, stepped closer to her father and turned her back to him. "Would you look on the tag on the back of my dress, Dad? I think it says small, but maybe it's medium?"

"It is small," Daniel nodded, resisting the urge to wink.

"I know!" Wilkie said, standing up straight again. "We could check the attic! Spirits breathe in attics! That's where she's hiding! I can feel it! I'm vibrating all over! It's HER vibrations!"

The Captain shook his head firmly. "Really, this must stop. You're exciting my children, and it's not good for them right before bed."

Suddenly, piano music could be heard on the ground floor, and Wilkie went bolting out of the room, practically sliding down the stairs, the other men following and a furious rate, through the front entry way, to the living room, but they practically crashed into him at the door of the alcove. His mouth — and then theirs flew open at the sight of a 'ghost' seated at the keyboard playing the _Merry Widow Waltz._

"Careful!" Paul whispered urgently. "It's the ghost... Don't anybody move..."

"I like to live dangerously," Maxwell muttered. Boldly, he stepped inside the small room, and, reaching the 'spirit' at the keyboard, he quickly yanked the sheet from their head.

"Hi!" Martha Grant stopped playing and turned around to face him.

"What are you doing?" Maxwell asked.

"Playing the piano. I take requests."

"In a white sheet?" Hewitt cut in.

"My flowered one is in the wash."

The children, who had followed the grownups downstairs, stifled a giggle.

"Was that you we heard moaning a few minutes ago?" Maxwell demanded.

"Yes — these old heating ducts have great acoustics. They go straight up to the hall on the second floor."

Hewitt pivoted in his place to face the Ghost Hunter. "Wilkie! What are you trying to pull here?"

Wilkie turned pale. "Me? Sir! I did nothing!"

Daniel's eyes went cold. "Nothing? You dare call entering my home under false pretenses, breaking and entering, then threatening me with a horde of scandal-mongering reporters nothing?"

"Did you really do that, you idiot?" Maxwell roared. "Don't you know how much trouble the university could get into over such a stunt?"

"But... But sir, I..."

"Wilkie, I have no choice. The college can't afford any bad publicity, and..."

"Sir! Why don't you ask Captain Gregg to explain HIMself?"

The Captain shrugged. "You wanted a ghost, so we gave you a ghost. All staged, of course. We could have done better, but it was rather short notice."

"We don't blame you a bit," Maxwell assured him, looking completely disgusted with Wilkie. "Paul, as of now, you are fired." He glanced at his associate and got the nod of confirmation that he hoped for.

"You can't! I have classes! You'll have to refund the fees to all my students and—"

"Your assistant, Mrs. Tibaldi, is competent enough, and saner," Hewitt interrupted. "Mr. Gregg, I can promise you, no one from our school, or this idiot, will bother your family again."

"That's all I'm asking for," Daniel said, shaking the two men's hands. "Would you like a cup of coffee before you leave?"

"Thank you, no." Maxwell shook his head and glared at Wilkie. "We have a long trip back, and this numbskull still has his office to clear out."

"Really, sir..."

"Wilkie, one more word out of you..."

"Yes, sir."

XXX

Daniel and his family watched the three men drive away.

"I feel a little sorry for him, Dad," Jonathan said yawning. "After all, he did see a ghost."

"It doesn't count if he saw one under false pretenses," said Carolyn. "When I want someone to see me, that's different."

"Do you WANT anyone else to see you, Mrs. Muir?" Candy asked seriously. "It'd be kinda neat for you to come to school and stuff with us sometimes."

Jonathan nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, like to my American History presentation as school next week. I'm doing an essay on Benjamin Franklin and John Adams."

"I'll be there — seen by you and unseen by anyone else, I'm afraid!" She gave them a sad smile.

"That's okay," they shrugged. "As long as Dad, you and Martha are there, that's all that matters."

XXX

There was peace in Gull Cottage, at least for a little while, after the Paul Wilkie incident. By the next Madeira afternoon the following Tuesday, he was nothing more than a memory. Someday, it might even be an amusing one. Martha just smiled to herself when her boss excused himself for his weekly "date." She was glad to know why he had to go to the attic at that time every seven days.

"You know, we could, now that you are not a secret, have the Madeira in the living room," Daniel suggested.

"Would you want to? I do like Martha, and don't mind the idea of sharing a drink with her," Carolyn said. "But..."

"I agree," the Captain said gently. "This time with you has become special, my dear. As fond as I am of Martha, I prefer to keep things as they are." Carolyn smiled and toasted the idea. "You mentioned something the other day, dear lady that I've wanted to ask you about. You see, I had considered doing some freelance work for the local paper, but you have made me question the wisdom of that. I have no desire to work for scoundrels," Daniel remarked, a sip or two later.

"I don't know the current Finley," Carolyn admitted. "I suppose he could be a decent sort, though I truly doubt it. Lucius was just an oily, opportunist. He liked to print scandal. I don't know how I kept him from printing..."

"Printing...?" the Captain prompted. "Madam, you can be sure I will betray no secrets. It was part of my duties in the service to not reveal things to those who did not need to know them."

For a long moment, she was quiet, and the seaman was sure that she would not continue. Then, the ghost sighed. "Maybe it would be good to get this off my soul. I spent several years praying that my name would not show up in that gossip rag, not because of anything I did. Because of what I failed to do — keep my husband at home. He had a wandering — eye, and the rest of him followed it. Just the sort of thing that might be reported, obliquely, in Finley's paper. I tried to maintain a respectable front, even pretended to mourn that wretched philanderer, all so that no one would suspect how ashamed I was. Then, to have it reported that I killed myself, all because of MISSING HIM? To have people think I would do that in any case is bad enough, but over that — scurvy rat?" She drew in a breath reflexively. "You do believe that it was a simple accident?" Her green eyes turned to Daniel, begging him to affirm the truth.

"Of course I do. Carbon monoxide poisoning is not all that uncommon in these days, and people know more about how to handle heaters than they did in your time. Besides, you are no shrinking violet." He dismissed the whole notion of suicide with a scowl and wave. "And I deplore vultures that prey on tragedy." His frown deepened. "Blast. I'd give a great deal to have five minutes with Robert Muir. He would never cheat on anyone ever again."

"The cheating wasn't the worst of it," Carolyn went on, a flood of bad memories now uncorked and coming to the fore. "I was relieved, in a way to have him out of the house. He was a tyrant. Everything had to be done exactly as he said or he'd have a fit. As much as I wish I had children, I'm glad his bloodline did not continue."

"I am so sorry, my dear," Daniel reached out to take her hand. When he could not, they both looked disappointed and uncomfortable.

She shrugged. "Water under the bridge, I suppose. I hope your marriage was better than mine."

The Captain reflected. "To be honest, I'm not sure if it was. Since we're having true confessions, here, I must admit that I was not home often enough to really say if I had a good marriage or not. We were — pleasant together, and I cherish the children that came of our union. But, she did seem discontent, at times. Melanie liked society and the social whirl. At formal occasions, I could not have asked for a more perfect partner, but to just talk to someone, as you and I talk... When I tried to do so, there was more silence than speech." His lips thinned. "Neither of us was unfaithful, and there was — romance, at least at first, but I'm not sure if we would have been able to remain together if I had settled down at home for any length of time."

Carolyn nodded and there was silence between the couple for a moment.

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"May I ask...? No, I shouldn't."

"Ask me — what?"

"Captain, you know Robert died at sea. He was swept overboard in a storm and his body was never found... and you know how I died... May I ask please, how did Melanie die? I hope for your sake, and the children's, that it was not drawn out, or that she suffered too much."

Now, it was Daniel's turn to be quiet for a few seconds, staring into his glass. "I can only hope she did not suffer."

"I don't understand," Carolyn prompted.

"Right before I had gone on the last mission before she died, Melanie and I had some harsh words. When I came back to port, I could not come home immediately, but I did call her. She said we needed to talk, right away. I told her it was not possible. She said fine, she would come to me. An hour later, the hospital called to say she had been in a car accident. She ran a red light and the car in the oncoming lane could not stop." He sighed. "Melanie was about thirteen years younger than me... that's another story, but it could also be that was part of our problem. Maybe she was too young for me, but I loved her and thought she loved me, but we were drifting apart. And you know, I never did figure out what was so important to her that day that she had to risk life and limb to come and see me... and what would make her drive so carelessly."

"But Candy and Jonathan were not with her?" Carolyn hated to think of them hurt or seeing something so awful.

"In school, thank the Good Lord," Daniel breathed.

"It must have been a horrid time for you..." Carolyn whispered.

"It was," he sighed heavily. "Naturally, she was gone by the time I was told and had reached her, and for some time I blamed myself. I should have... somehow made more of an effort that day." He took another sip of his sweet wine. "Ralph and Marjorie had already picked up the kids from school by then, and naturally I was able to get leave from the service almost at once. Our house was packed up and put into storage, for the most part. Ralph hired an estate manager to help. But to be honest, even now I remember very little about the first month after she died. Just making all the arrangements, arguing with Ralph and Marjorie about funeral plans, and such. I'm sure you can imagine."

"I can," she said softly. "Everyone — both well-meaning and overbearing, comes out of the woodwork and wants to help at times like that, and they all have their own ideas, practically none of which ever really falls into line with what you want or need."

"That's it, precisely," Daniel nodded. "Anyway, I wound things up with the Navy, received my papers, and — I don't know — I walked into Ralph and Marjorie's one afternoon, saw my children, and realized I didn't really know them as I should. We needed a fresh start. Over my in-law's objections, we moved out of their home and into a small, three-bedroom apartment. Martha, who had been my housekeeper when I was married, agreed to come with us. One day, maybe a month later, I was reading the _Maine Fishing Quarterly_, saw Claymore's ad, and I realized it was a chance at a new beginning." He shrugged. "I did sell most of the furniture and whatnot I had in Philly, as this place came furnished. So... here we are."

"Here you are," Carolyn echoed. Not sure whether to lighten the mood or not, she added, "And, I think that is working out fairly well. It might be time to consider that you've passed your trial period successfully."

"As have you," he winked at her. "Another toast?"

"Yes. What do we drink to?"

He thought about it. "To a brighter future?"

"To a brighter future," she nodded. "One that gets brighter every day with you... and your family being here."

"And with you in residence, Madam."

XXX

Jonathan's presentation at school went off without a hitch, but there was no shortage of excitement, albeit a little tamer than ghost hunters. Scruffy got lost for a day or two, but an artist renting a cottage from Mr. Muir found him and brought him home to everyone's relief. Martha surprised everyone by going out on a date with the local dentist, but after she met his mother, she decided she'd rather stick to Painter Peavey, who had also asked her out once, and liked to drop by the cottage and see her from time to time. She wasn't sure if he loved her or her cherry pie, but at least he wasn't a henpecked mama's boy.

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

Mary and Amanda

Chapter Four

**Tuesday, November 26th**

Daniel found Carolyn and Martha sharing a cup of coffee in the kitchen as he brought the mail in. "Christmas catalogs? Already?" he shook his head. "Can we not have Thanksgiving first?"

"Well, it is just a couple of days off, sir," Martha pointed out.

"Yes, it is. Ah... Martha... how do you feel about guests for the holiday?" Daniel asked.

Martha shrugged. "If you want to invite someone that is your right. You are the boss. Besides, there's always too much food at Thanksgiving."

"Who do you want to have over?" Carolyn asked quietly. Unless he had asked Claymore, which she didn't see as that likely, she was going to have to hide instead of joining the family. The realization was somewhat painful, but she would not allow anyone to see that.

"An old friend just wrote to say she is coming. She'll arrive tomorrow, in fact."

"She?" slipped out before Carolyn could stop the word.

"Yes. Vanessa Blair." Daniel fingered his ear. "She is Melanie's cousin."

"Oh, a relative," Carolyn felt slightly reassured.

"Yes, it was she who was responsible for me meeting Melanie," Daniel nodded. "I had taken Vanessa to a yacht club dance, and Melanie was there. We hit it off, but of course I could not ditch Vanessa. However, she... grew tired of me not long after that, so I began courting her cousin."

_So much for being reassured_, Carolyn thought. "Will she be staying here or at the Inn?"

"Here. We do have a guestroom, and she is family," Daniel said. "Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I need to get a little bit of extra work in, since I won't be able to for a few days."

Martha glanced up at the kitchen clock after he was gone. Carolyn followed her gaze. Neither of them said anything, but they both knew it was almost time for their regular Tuesday Madeira date, which apparently was not _quite _as sacrosanct as it had been.

"What is this Miss Blair like, Martha?" Carolyn asked.

"I've only seen a picture of her," the housekeeper said.

"Is she... pretty?"

Martha's lips thinned. "If you like the type. I will say this; she and Mrs. Gregg looked a great deal alike. However, Vanessa is a dark brunette. Melanie was a blonde. Not honey blonde, like your hair, but a natural ash blonde. The kids inherited it, though theirs have both darkened a bit as they have gotten older."

"I see. Excuse me, Martha. I — observed some new things through my telescope last night. I should note it down in my astronomical records." The ghost faded out, leaving Martha silently blasting thickheaded men.

**November 27th — Wednesday**

Even though the kids' memories of Cousin Vanessa were a bit hazy, they were excited to see her arrive the next day. As she watched the woman come up the walk after parking her sporty rental car, Carolyn admitted she was a vision with her perfect skin and jet black hair. And, she was a woman of Daniel's era, alive, and an old flame. The fact that the Captain had cared for her alone told Carolyn she had to be a good person.

_Blast it, Carolyn; you are far too old to have a schoolgirl crush, especially on a mortal. _Carolyn told herself to shut up as she teleported downstairs to observe the goings-on invisibly.

"Candace, Jonathan. How lovely to see you," the young woman cooed in refined tones. "My, aren't you getting big. But, surely you didn't take a day off from school to visit with me?"

"We're on vacation," Candy explained, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. She thought everyone knew that. And, she _hated_ being called Candace.

"Oh." Vanessa looked around the front room. "What a charmingly — rustic — old place this is. Was it once a barn? I read about some people doing that, turning dusty old barns into homes."

"Ah, no, my dear," Daniel said. "It's always been a house, and Martha keeps all dust outside, where it belongs."

Suddenly, Scruffy wriggled out of Jonathan's arms and bounded over to greet their visitor enthusiastically. As he jumped up onto Vanessa's legs, pulling a runner in her silk hose, Carolyn sniggered in delight. Only he could hear her say, "Good dog."

Daniel glanced around furtively, frowning. The ghost of Gull Cottage was nowhere in sight, even to him.

"It certainly is an... old place," Vanessa went on. "Really Daniel, dear, I had no idea you had such a penchant for antiques. All this nautical... stuff. I thought you had left that behind when you moved from Philadelphia. And why didn't you tell me where you were going? You just picked up and... left."

"Vanessa, we were not dating and only saw each other at the occasional family event," he replied, a touch defensively.

"We used to tell each other everything," she pouted.

"Yes — a long time ago."

"Well, you don't have to say it QUITE like that," she said, almost but not quite sharply. Scruffy barked, circling around the woman's feet. "Tell me... when did you get this little cre... uhm... dog? I don't remember you ever saying you like dogs."

"I've always been fond of dogs," he shrugged. "I got Scruffy a few months ago as a gift to the children."

"Oh," she shrugged. "Would you mind, Daniel, sweetie, if I went upstairs and freshened up? I feel positively grimy after my train trip. They get so dusty, you know, and there was a family ahead of me that kept pointing out sights — I couldn't concentrate on the book mama gave me at all."

_"I was under the impression that train-travel had improved a great deal in the last hundred years, or so," _Carolyn materialized in the room, visible only to Daniel. _"What a delicate wisp of a girl she is." This last remark was more than a little sarcastic._

"Of course. I quite understand," the seaman nodded, shooting a quick glare at the spirit. She KNEW he couldn't reply at the moment. "The guest room is upstairs, right across from the nursery."

"Oh..." Vanessa answered, disappointed. "I thought it would be near yours."

"They're all in the same area, really," Martha cut in. "Master Cabin on one side of the hallway, and the nursery and the guest bedroom on the other side with the bathroom in the middle. The house isn't THAT big."

"And you can use the bathroom, now, if you want to," Jonathan interjected. "Candy and I take our baths at night. Makes school easier. But since we are on vacation, you can go first, and we'll wait until later."

"Long as you don't use all the hot water," Candy grinned.

"I think it would be better if you two take your baths at the usual time," Daniel frowned. "I'm sorry there's only one, Vanessa, but the children are right. The hot water heater is temperamental. You don't mind a short shower now, do you? I've planned on dinner out this evening, and we won't be home until late."

For a second Vanessa's too bright, at least in Carolyn's opinion, smile faltered. But she recovered and said; "Of course I don't mind. I won't be but a few minutes." With a little wave, she tripped up the stairs.

"I'd better show her where her room is," Martha sighed and followed.

XXX

Vanessa was back downstairs an hour later, out of her traveling suit, but wearing a dress that still looked like she had stepped out of Vogue, and her makeup had been re-done. There was a shopping bag in her hand. Daniel and Jonathan had taken the time to get Vanessa's luggage up to her room, and from the way she looked, she had been into all of her suitcases.

"There! I wasn't too long, now was I?" she asked Daniel coyly.

"_Not long at all, for a turtle,"_ Carolyn said, only to Daniel, popping back into the room_. "And she did use all the hot water — I hope Martha doesn't need too much making dinner for the children... or are you taking them with you this afternoon?"_

Daniel looked at his watch. "Well, now... it's still early, Vanessa. What do you say we go on a drive? Take a tour of the town? I could show you..."

"We could show you the Seafarers' Museum," Candy perked up. "With the new statue dedicated to all seamen. They're fixing it up, and the town council is voting about converting an old warehouse into a Seamen's Home... Dad's writing an article about that for the paper! We can go see the warehouse!"

"And you could see the firehouse with us," Jonathan interrupted his sister. "If there are no fires, Mister Peavey will let us ring Old Seventeen's bell and run the siren," Jonathan added. "We can show you where we go to school, and the library, the general store, and down by the wharf, too!"

Carolyn smirked. _Family days could be SO nice!_

Vanessa looked disappointed. "Oh — are you two children coming with us?" She glanced around the room again "I thought you'd be staying here."

Jonathan shook his head. "Naa... we'll be here tonight, but we can have fun this afternoon... with you."

"I see..."

"What's in the bag?" Candy asked, glancing at the package the woman was still holding in her hand.

Vanessa gave a little smile. "Oh! I almost forgot... I brought you all presents." She sat down on the couch and crossed her ankles, delicately.

"Now you didn't have to do that..." Daniel started, sitting down beside her, but anyone with half a brain could see that he was pleased.

"No, I didn't have to, but I did," Vanessa answered. "These came all the way from Philadelphia, where your daddy used to live."

"_Your children lived there, too," _Carolyn said quietly, to Daniel's ears only.

"We all lived there, Vanessa," Daniel corrected the woman, half-wondering why he felt so awkward. They were just presents after all.

"Oh yes," the dark-haired beauty nodded, "Of course you did... I've just known you for so long, Daniel, I get carried away. Open them, children." She looked at her watch. "Then I suppose we can get going."

Jonathan opened his first. "Wow!" he shouted. "Matchbox Cars! The full set from this year! — And the garage! Boy! This is great!" he shouted. "Not even Danny Shoemaker has these yet! Thanks!"

"You're welcome... dear," Vanessa smiled. "But Candace should have gone first, because she's a girl."

"I thought I got to go first, because I'm younger," Jonathan shrugged, "Go ahead, Can." Carolyn watched Vanessa flinch at the nickname, but Daniel didn't seem to notice at all. Nor did he seem to be aware of Vanessa edging closer to him on the couch.

Candy opened up her package. "Groovy!" she shouted. "A portable 8-track tape player! With two tapes! The Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel! Thanks!" Hurriedly, she shoved one of the tapes into the player and _Hey, Jude_, by the Beatles came pouring out. Vanessa winced slightly at the noise, which Martha quickly subdued, and the young woman handed Martha a small package which, when opened, contained an upscale brand of perfume.

"And now for you," she turned to Daniel, her dark eyes looking up at him. "You magnificent man, you..." Thunder cracked, and Daniel and Martha jumped up from their seats, making a dive for the open windows. "That came up fast," Vanessa said, taken aback for a moment.

"We get sudden temper squalls up this way," Daniel said, frowning toward the fireplace, where Carolyn was now standing. "You get used to it."

"Oh... well, I was saying," Vanessa continued complacently, waiting until Daniel was once more seated beside her. "For you, Daniel, dear." She held out a small box and when he took it, Carolyn saw their fingers touch. Quickly, Daniel opened the package. Inside was a handsome gold pocket watch.

"Open the cover," Vanessa said, once more glancing up at him. When he did, there was the faint tinkle of the _Blue Danube Waltz. _Vanessa smiled. "Remember when we first danced to that, Daniel? Provincetown. Ages ago. When we were dating."

"It's been a long time," Daniel said. "I had forgotten."

"I'd never forget waltzing with you," she smiled back at him. "It seems like yesterday."

There was a moment of silence, and then Daniel cleared his throat. "Thank you, Vanessa. It was a lovely thought. I will treasure it — and keep it for best." Seeing Carolyn Muir disappear, he cleared his throat again. "Now, then. Would you like a tour of the rest of the house?" He offered her his arm. "We'll start with the rest of this room, and then see what there is to see."

From her place near the children, Carolyn could see the polite disinterest in Vanessa's eyes. Of course, Daniel was oblivious.

When they reached the fireplace, Vanessa looked up and stared at Carolyn's portrait obviously having never noticed it before. Carolyn's portrait, dressed all in blue stared down at her. "Who is that, and why do you have her picture so — prominently displayed?"

"That's Carolyn — Muir," Daniel cleared his throat. "She owned this house a century ago."

"But, why is her picture still up?" Vanessa persisted. "Shouldn't it be with her relatives? Or in the attic?"

Thunder burst out suddenly and violently. Daniel shot a glare at the ceiling before replying, "It — just seems to belong where it is."

"We like her," Candy muttered.

"Yeah, a lot," Jonathan nodded.

"Poor waifs. You're missing your mother, aren't you?" Vanessa crooned. "Maybe you could blow up a photo of Melanie, Daniel, and put it up there? Or, if that would be too — painful, maybe a nice Monet? Instead of that — old-fashioned..._ thing."_

There was another rumble of thunder.

"Why don't we go see the rest of the house?" he asked, instead of answering her question.

"Of course." As she turned, the throw rug started to move, but fortunately, Daniel caught sight of it and pulled Vanessa closer to him. "Careful. You almost slipped. Ah, Martha, we might want to move that. Someone might break their neck."

"Right," she said grimly. Privately, she was on the ghost's side.

The only truly positive comment Vanessa made about the house was when she saw the gazebo. "Oh, what a lovely, romantic spot! Could we sit out there and watch the stars tonight?"

In an instant, the Captain knew he would be asking for more trouble than he cared to face if he said yes. Thinking rapidly, he replied, "Ah, no. It's — far too chilly. Can't have you catching a cold, now can we?"

"You're so thoughtful, Daniel dear."

Finally, the Captain decided it would be prudent to get Vanessa out of the house, so he gathered the children and announced it was time to go see Schooner Bay.

"Can Martha and Mrs. Muir come, too?" Jonathan asked as they headed out the door. Candy elbowed him hastily.

"The woman in the picture?" Vanessa asked.

"Er, no, my... doll," Candy blurted out. "I have a doll I named after Mrs. Muir."

"What an odd name for a doll," Vanessa blinked. "Daniel, did you ever get these poor children grief counseling? I'm seeing a very disturbing trend here. It is called transference; I think that is what the magazine I read said."

"Oh, don't trouble your pretty head about that. Candy simply admires the portrait and — Jonathan knows how fond she is of the doll."

"Isn't she too old for a security blanket?"

"Come along, dear," Daniel tried again, hastening them all out the door. He reflected that before this was over, Scruffy would be the only one allowed to watch television for a _month._

"I'll be fine. I've got a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow," Martha called out after the family.

As the car pulled away, Carolyn fully manifested. _"Blast! Blast! Blast!"_

"I know, dear," Martha sighed. "I knew it'd be a long weekend. I just didn't know HOW long."

"Amen," Carolyn agreed. "Do you need help in the kitchen?"

"It's under control. I'd just rather not see those two together, and besides, if I'm not there to mind the kids, the Captain will have to, instead of minding HER." She shook her head. "You know, Mrs. Gregg was nice, for that matter, in a way, Miss Blair is, too. But, not a comfortable nice, if you take my meaning. Very polite, and proper, but I bet neither of them would ever offer to help me in the galley. You've got all the breeding they do, but you did offer. That's what I call class."

"I'd hug you if I could, Martha," Carolyn smiled. "Has Candy really named her doll after me?"

"Probably not before today, but she is very fond of one doll. I think it came with a name. It might have just gotten a new one, though." Carolyn took this in. Martha could tell she was still blue, so she reconsidered. "You know, I could use some help, after all. How are you with a knife?"

"Now, don't tempt me." The spirit grinned and followed the other woman to the kitchen.

XXX

By the time Vanessa and Carolyn Muir's 'family' came back at five, the spirit was more than a little anxious about how things had gone that afternoon. She had helped Martha chop, dice, and slice, and now the stuffing was seasoning itself in the refrigerator, ready to be put in the turkey on the morrow. The two women had also started the homemade cranberry sauce that needed overnight to jell, and Carolyn had shelled a mountain of nuts for snacking and snapped green beans. About four forty-five, she had retired to the attic to pace, and silently Martha wondered if the weather would stay clear enough for her to make her red velvet cake with seven-minute icing.

Not long after that, she heard the car door bang, and moments later, the kids charged into the kitchen, chattering happily about how cool the sights had been. Their father followed them. Glancing around, he could see how much progress Martha had made.

"You've been exceptionally industrious this afternoon, Martha," he noted with a touch of wonder. "You must have more super powers than I suspected of you."

"Well, that's true, but I did have HELP."

The seaman nodded. "Vanessa's gone to change for our evening out, as should I. But first, where is your... assistant?"

"I didn't ask her," Martha shrugged. "Might check the attic, but do you have time?"

Daniel looked at his watch. "I might... I don't know yet. I really should freshen up and change. Our reservation for dinner at the Inn is at six-thirty."

"It does take a while to get ready," Martha rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and Vanessa's room.

"That reminds me," he added, almost sheepishly. "Since Vanessa is using the upstairs head, do you suppose I could borrow your little one down here?"

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," Martha nodded. "You better hurry, though, before all the hot water is gone. Then maybe, if you have time, you can have a word with Mrs. Muir — maybe thank her for giving me a hand this afternoon."

"Thanks, Martha." The seaman gave her a look that almost asked if the housekeeper was being sarcastic, but he said nothing further and headed for upstairs to get his change of wardrobe for the evening.

Military life had taught Captain Gregg to clean up rapidly, but it still took him a bit of time to get through the process. With no more than fifteen minutes that he could spare for the Lady of the Cottage, he hurried upstairs to the attic. At the door, he could hear her talking to the kids about the museum.

"It was cool, Mrs. Muir!" Jonathan was saying. "This is the first time we've seen it since it reopened. Claymore was there and he was saying that they got halfway done with the rene... rene..." He broke off.

"...Renovations," Candy interjected.

"Right... Thanks, Candy, renovations, and then the town council decided that the guy in charge of them, who was just visiting here, was getting too commercial, and sent him away."

"It was still groovy, though," Candy said. "They collected old stuff from all over town, like harpoons, and ship wheels, and a binnacle like the one you have in yours and Dad's bedroom, and there was a whole room that looked like a captain's cabin on a ship, and a real cannon, and a whole bunch of models and paintings, and costumes from a long time ago. They dressed mannequins to look like people who were alive when you were, and..."

"And we got to see what a captain's uniform from a hundred years ago looked like, too," Jonathan went on. "Boy! I thought Dad looked snazzy in the uniform he has, but it would be even better to see him wear one from the museum!"

"The ladies' dresses were really pretty, too," said Candy. "I saw a yellow one, with a matching parasol that was nice, and two that were pink. One was all fluffy and the other was pink silk and the lady giving the tour at the museum said it had little weights in the hem that made it a perfect dress to waltz in. Did you ever have a dress like that?"

"More than one," Carolyn replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "And I did do my share of waltzing."

"I wish you could teach me how," the little girl sighed. "Then I could wear a dress like that."

Carolyn gave her another half-smile. "Oh, I'm sure your father will teach you, in time."

"I need to be taller," Candy said earnestly. "He'd have to bend over too much now. But I wish I could watch you and Dad dance, and get some pointers."

"Maybe you and I can go with Dad and Vanessa tonight and watch," Jonathan said thoughtfully. "I heard Vanessa say she was looking forward to dancing tonight."

"I think I'd rather watch Dad and Mrs. Muir dance," Candy replied.

"Silly, they can't dance together! They can't hold hands, or nuthin!"

"Children," Carolyn said gently. "I don't think that's a subject for right now. I'm more interested in your day, really. What else did you do? Did you have a good time? Was Vanessa...?" She groped for the right word. "...fun?"

Silence fell. Daniel listened more intently, wondering what his children thought of his old girlfriend.

"Uh... sure," Candy hesitantly replied. "Not as much fun as it woulda been with you, but... okay, kinda."

"Yeah, kinda," Jonathan echoed. "But, waaay too — mushy. And I don't think she oughta have worn those shoes with the spiky heels. I think she was scared of falling, the way she hung onto Dad."

Outside, Daniel held his breath, waiting for the ghost's reaction.

Inside, Carolyn lifted an eyebrow. "I see," she nodded. Her voice was neutral. "Well, I suppose being from Philadelphia she is more used to driving when she needs to go somewhere."

"Yeah, but she did it inside, too," Jonathan maintained. "You don't drive inside."

"Well, maybe her heels were too high," Carolyn shrugged. "She might know better next time. If you don't mind my asking, what did you all talk about? I mean, did you tell her about school? Your baseball team, Jonathan and your school projects, the Winter Carnival coming up and the tricks you are teaching Scruffy? That kind of thing? Or did you learn more about her? I know it's been a while since you've seen her. It must have been... nice... catching up."

"She just wanted to talk about herself," Candy made a face. "And how she and Dad did this, that, and the other thing."

"You mean... When they were... seeing each other...?"

"Dating," Candy said matter-of-factly. "...In Philly. Before we moved here. Before Jonathan and me... I mean; I... was even born. Even before Daddy married our mom."

"I see... so you... she didn't talk to you much, then."

Outside the door, Daniel started a bit. It was true. He and Vanessa had caught up on old times, and the children HAD been left mostly to themselves.

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "But we didn't mind. Eating at Norrie's and the museum and stuff was fun."

"You should go now," Carolyn said. "Vanessa... I mean your father will be looking for you."

Though they made small noises of protest, she was firm. A few seconds later, the door swung open; Daniel barely stepped away in time to avoid being clunked on his handsome nose.

"Wow. Mrs. Muir was right. You are looking for us!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"You look nice, Dad," Candy added.

"Ah, yes. Why don't you go on down and — I want to say good evening to Mrs. Muir before I — we — leave," Daniel said. "I'll only be a few minutes."

The kids hurried off with waves, leaving the two adults to stare at each other.

"Madam, that little trick with the rug was most — unseemly of you," he finally stated.

"Trick? Captain, let me assure you, IF I wanted to hurt that flutter-brained twit, I would not resort to tricks," Carolyn snapped. "It seemed to me that it was more a case of someone taking advantage of an opportunity to — embrace — without seeming to embrace — someone else." She shook her head. "What are standards coming to? Such a thing would not have been looked upon kindly in my day. Especially around children."

"I did nothing improper," Daniel growled.

"Did I accuse YOU?"

"Vanessa was raised to be a perfect lady," he automatically defended his guest. Then, trying to lighten the tension, he chuckled. "It is rather flattering to me that such a beauty as you would be jealous."

"Jealous? Hardly," she sniffed. "Now, I believe your girlfriend is waiting."

"So she is. I bid you a good evening, Madam." He bowed, but hesitated as he lifted his head. "I — realize that our plans for tomorrow have been somewhat altered. Perhaps, after Vanessa goes home, we could have a second Thanksgiving, so that you can be included?"

A flicker of pain crossed Carolyn's face before she caught herself and regained her rigid control. "I do not partake of sustenance, and it seems a needless bother for Martha to have to trouble with to prepare a second feast that I could only observe. Martha is a jewel, Captain. I won't add to her workload."

"As you wish, Madam. I do not think she would mind, but as you said, I must be off."

"Of course," Carolyn nodded.

He did not know if ghosts could weep, but Daniel could have sworn her eyes seemed to glisten.

XXX

"What a... Quaint, little place," Vanessa remarked as they entered the Inn. Due to the holiday, there were very few other patrons. "Is this the finest place in Schooner Cove?"

"Bay, and well, there is Norrie's Lobster House," Daniel replied as he took her coat and draped it over the back of her chair. "I'd rate them fairly close together. They serve good food and are pleasant and clean." He shrugged. "Beats a mess hall."

"Ha, ha. You are too funny," Vanessa tittered.

"It wasn't a joke," he muttered under his breath.

After they ordered, Vanessa wanted to dance. Though he felt a little ridiculous doing so, since no one else seemed so inclined, Daniel was not in the mood to argue over the matter. They had only been waltzing a few moments when he was startled to see Carolyn Muir sitting at an empty table watching them.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Dancing with you, silly man," Vanessa teased.

"Ah — you know, we are the only ones indulging. The night before a holiday is just not a good one for this sort of thing, I suppose," the Captain suggested. "Let's just sit down and enjoy each other's company." Very firmly, he began guiding her to the table.

"Oh, I do agree. I'm sure you are starved for adult conversation, poor man," Vanessa sighed.

"Why would you think that?" Daniel blinked. "I am enjoying getting to know my children, and then there's Martha, and M... Mr. Muir, the fellow who sold me the house comes around every so often. And, the town is filled with charming people."

Vanessa shook her head. "Making the best of things. I understand."

Just behind Vanessa, Carolyn rolled her eyes. Daniel glared at her.

"I meant nothing by that, Daniel darling. Except that you're so — stoic and brave," Vanessa gushed, edging her chair closer to his, or trying to. Carolyn invisibly reached out and anchored the piece of furniture so it could not move. Somehow, Miss Blair was much less graceful looking as she fought to scoot it.

The waiter arrived at that point with their food. Vanessa had ordered a six-ounce steak, with potato, vegetable, and fruit, while Daniel had decided on the house special, with smaller portions of steak and lobster. There was a moment of silence while the waiter opened the wine. Daniel sampled it, found it satisfactory, and the waiter left, promising to be back immediately if needed.

Just as the Captain was about to slice into his steak, Carolyn appeared at his elbow. "Your girl there has extravagant tastes, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. And I bet she can't eat it all."

"Why are you here?" Daniel hissed.

"Why, just to see you, darling," Vanessa answered, looking a bit startled.

"I was in the neighborhood," Carolyn smiled. "I decided I needed to get out more. Besides — you two need a chaperone."

Daniel resisted the urge to explode, if only just barely. "We do not need a chaperone, blast it," he hissed again.

Looking uncertain, Vanessa slowly said, "I couldn't agree more. We are both adults, after all. Though, I did wonder if that wasn't why you had the children tag along today. It was cute, but really, I do trust you, Daniel."

"Er — thank you, Vanessa. And I am most — flattered that you would make a special trip just to see me — and the children, of course."

"Oh, your children are very cute!" Vanessa said. "They look just like you, you know."

"They both have my eyes," Daniel said fondly. "But really, more of Melanie's coloring."

"Jonathan has your ears, chin, and disposition," Carolyn interjected. "And Candy your love of the sea and nature and she has started writing, or hadn't you noticed? She also has your cheekbones and forehead, in a feminine form. Every day I see more of you in them."

"Truly?" Daniel let slip. He so hoped that it was the case, that his years away hadn't estranged him from his offspring.

"It's plain as the nose on your face," Carolyn smiled. "It's just hard to see one's OWN nose, even if it is a handsome one."

"Oh, yes," Vanessa said. "They're a bit — rambunctious, it seems, but they'll outgrow it and become as dignified as you, eventually. With instruction." The children's eagerness to see everything all at once that afternoon had been very wearing to her poor nerves.

"Really?" Daniel lifted an eyebrow. "Actually they were quite calm today — compared to the way they usually are. But really, I can honestly say I prefer them that way. When we were in Philly, especially when we were staying with Ralph and Marjorie, they tried almost too hard to be good at times, I think." He paused and took a bite of his meal. "So tell me, what have you been up to, lately?"

Vanessa's eyes lit up. As she opened her mouth to begin speaking, Carolyn contemplated the ceiling and matter-of-factly informed Daniel, "Now, we're in for it, Captain."

Vanessa happily began chattering about all she had done over the past ten or eleven years, how Mummy and Papa had funded her in a fashion design business, the various men she had dated, though NONE of them even began to compare to HIM, of course, and all about her trip through Europe two years before. She had considered attending the Sorbonne, she had a terrific idea on how to base dresses on modern art concepts, but had decided against that plan.

"I bet she couldn't get in," Carolyn commented. "I think that school does have fairly high standards."

"Well, I'm glad everything is working out for you, my dear," Daniel nodded, ignoring Carolyn.

"Oh, I suppose so," she twittered. "Mummy and Papa were glad to see me home for a while though — that reminds me, you should call and tell them thank-you, Daniel."

"For what?" he asked mystified.

"Certainly not for her upbringing or manners!" Carolyn sniffed. "Me, me, me. You haven't been able to say a word beyond "yes" or "no" or "go on" for the last forty-five minutes! You haven't said anything about you or your life here in Schooner Bay, or anything else about the children, or your writing, not to mention what else you have been doing for the last ten years and..." Carolyn stopped speaking then, realizing she was GRATEFUL that the man hadn't done just that.

"Oh, for making me decide to write to you and find out if you still felt like my company," Vanessa simpered, lowering her eyelids. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and then she looked back up at him, a dreamy-eyed expression on her face.

"And how might that be, pray?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, how?" Carolyn chimed in. "Do go on, dear."

"Oh!" Vanessa continued. "Well, I was staying at my parent's house, naturally, they wouldn't have it any other way, and Mummy got it in her head that I should go through the closet in my old bedroom... You know, see if there was anything there I wanted or needed. I did find a few things... my clothes, of course were hopelessly out of date... so I told Mummy to give them to the Goodwill, or something... I really don't keep track of what one should do with one's discards..."

"Like old boyfriends?" Carolyn asked archly. She looked at Daniel. "You know she's had dozens over the years, teased, then cast them all aside, without a thought. Her sort always does."

"That's highly commendable," Daniel started to say, but the dark-eyed miss was going on, not even acknowledging that he had paid her a compliment.

"...Anyway," Vanessa went on. "There I was, on a beautiful afternoon... I didn't see WHY Mummy insisted that I had to do it then, but I was certainly glad she did! For there, at the bottom of one of the boxes, was a packet of letters you sent me after we started seeing each other, but before, you know, Melanie, and all that..." She gave a little pout.

"Vanessa..." Daniel began. "...You were the one who suggested we stop seeing each other, you know. I remember you saying that you weren't sure you wanted to get too involved with a man who could be away for months at a time."

"Oh, but that was then, and this is now, and we are together again..." The girl batted her eyes once more. "We've both... matured, and are ready for a real relationship. We're still young, and deserve happiness..." Vanessa's knee bumped Daniel's.

Carolyn's green eyes turned brighter as she glared at the other woman. _"Brazen hussy!" _she shouted, and Daniel jumped slightly.

"Yes?" Vanessa cooed. "You agree?"

"No — muscle cramp," Daniel answered.

"Liar!" Carolyn jeered.

"Vanessa..." the Captain went on, trying to ignore his not-so-silent chaperone. "You were saying... about... letters?"

"Yes, oh, yes, your wonderful letters!" She reached for her purse on the back of her chair, retrieved a yellowed envelope with Daniel's handwriting on it, and pulled out a single faded sheet. "I don't know HOW I could have forgotten them! I love them all, but this one is my favorite." The girl cleared her throat and began: _"My beloved — the memory of your beauty sails the lonely watery wastes with me and I am alone no more — I see your radiant face in my mind's eye, and rough and raging seas grow calm. Your hair is a storm at midnight, your eyes black pearls from the ocean deeps, your voice an angel's song in the wind..." _She stopped then and gave a little sigh. "Your writing is just too divine, my dear!"

"Well... everyone has their... poetic moments," he said modestly, but instead of looking at his dinner companion, he turned instead to Carolyn.

"And you certainly have had some," Carolyn said softly and then surveyed them both. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Captain Gregg. I believe I will go home now and leave you to your evening." With that, she slowly faded from his view. A few moments later, Daniel could feel that his ghost had really departed.

After Carolyn was gone, Daniel found he had little appetite. _Just as well, I know Martha has a huge meal planned tomorrow,_ he thought. As Mrs. Muir had predicted, Vanessa's meal was largely untouched as well.

The house was dark when they returned to Gull Cottage. Though Vanessa tried to continue their conversation, it was so apparent that the Captain's mind was elsewhere that she gave up and announced she would turn in early.

"If that's what you wish, then have a pleasant rest, my dear," Daniel nodded.

Vanessa turned her face up toward his, "Good night, Daniel darling."

Their eyes met, but instead of kissing her on the lips, he simply kissed her cheek lightly. "Good night."

Miffed, the young woman turned and went upstairs slowly — not from sadness, but to give him a chance to call her back.

Daniel sat down by the fire and picked up his book, thinking to read a while, but after a few pages, he realized he had no idea what he had just perused. He closed the volume and looked up at the painting. "Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Silence answered him. "Blasted, stubborn woman," he mumbled. Shaking his head, he went upstairs where he found the aforementioned woman peering out her telescope.

"If you want to spy, we're in the house," he remarked.

Carolyn turned. "Oh, you're home. I was just observing a nebula. Of course, that's not as interesting as turning Picasso into a frock, but..."

"There is no need to be snide, Madam," Daniel informed her. "I do think you owe me an apology. I would say Vanessa, as well, but then I would have to explain you to her."

"You think I... Captain, your reasoning is faulty. Perhaps you are tired. I'll just pop out and let you change your attire." On that note, she vanished.

**November 28th – Thanksgiving**

Neither Daniel, Martha, nor the children saw Carolyn the following morning. The kids tried to find excuses to go look for her, and at one point, Vanessa took Daniel aside to express concern because she could hear Martha apparently muttering to the ceiling. He smiled and told her it was nothing. Martha was probably just trying to remember a recipe, or something. He did, however, wonder where Carolyn was. The answer was one he would never have expected.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Claymore," Carolyn announced as she appeared on top of his desk.

_"Eeerk,"_ he squeaked. "What are you doing here? I sold you to the Captain."

"You can't sell ME, and besides, he wouldn't want me if I was for sale. I came to celebrate the day with you, Claymore," Mrs. Muir explained patiently.

"Why?"

"Because I did. Gull Cottage was too crowded." She sniffed. "That woman's ego takes up three rooms."

"Martha? She's nice," Claymore frowned, adjusting his glasses.

"Yes, Martha is a dear soul," Carolyn agreed.

"Candy's a little girl, and she's a sweet kid," Claymore persisted.

"I didn't mean Candy. I meant Vanessa."

"Who?"

That one word triggered a flood of words as Carolyn poured out her story. "And, what's more, not only is it Thanksgiving, but it's MY birthday. I know I don't really have them, but — still."

Claymore sighed. "I'm sorry. Er, I could... I've got some day-old Twinkies from the bakery. I could stick a candle in one?"

Carolyn laughed. "I can't eat it. But, thanks. That's sweet of you." She did not add that she was not completely certain what a "Twinkie" was; it was beside the point.

Claymore blinked. "I've been called a lot of things in my life, some deserved, some not, but nobody has ever called me sweet before."

The ghost shrugged elaborately. "Well, enjoy it. It probably won't happen again."

"Too bad. Maybe I can think of something else to make you think I am." He sighed. "But I suppose not, which is sad, because you are the only family I have, since I'm not married, or anything."

"Let's not discuss that word, Claymore."

"Which word? Marriage, or family?"

"Marriage, and I said; let's not discuss that word," she answered testily. "Of course, we're going to have to. I can see THAT already." She looked down. "Poor kids. I would not want a step-monster like that one."

"Oh. I thought you meant family... as in me." Claymore blinked behind his thick glasses. "This girl — she hasn't been here long. Just a couple of days. How do you know the Captain will ask her? Or, for that matter, if she will say yes? I mean she has a job and all that. In Philadelphia. And the Captain just got settled — sweet-talked you into liking him and the kids, and everything, which I do think is a blessing, for both of you. I don't see why he would leave Schooner Bay. Maybe you have nothing to worry about on that account."

"She came here with marriage in mind. I can tell she's got the Captain in her sights, and he's — a man, and unlike you, at the moment, not thinking with his brain." Shaking her head, she added, "I am not worried. I just find it annoying that of all the things to change in the last century, the ONE thing that doesn't is what a pretty face does to an otherwise reasonable man's common sense."

Claymore scratched his head. "I'm no expert on love," he said quietly. "I've only been in love once, and I lost her to another guy, but may I say, that from a man's viewpoint, even if I am not as good-looking as Captain Gregg, that it seems to me that women jump to conclusions and tend to fly into a tizzy over nothing sometimes..." He put his hands over his face. "Now don't rain on me or anything for saying that!"

For a few seconds, Carolyn just glared at him, and then backed off. "Very well, but only because if I rain on you, I'd prove you right. I never fly into a tizzy over NOTHING. On the infinitesimally rare occasions that I do get upset, I do not fly and it's over SOMETHING."

"Mrs. Muir... let's just think logically for a moment. I can do that because she isn't chasing me, heck, I haven't even met her. But honestly, she has a job, right? She can't stay up here long. It's only a four-day weekend. Do you really think he will propose to her in the next forty-eight hours? The Captain is a sensible man. I've known that from the first. I just can't picture it. He wouldn't want to uproot or change his family situation any time soon, I don't think."

"Claymore, he used to date her. She's doing everything in her power to — to — turn back time so that he'll remember all the old feelings, and let me tell you, from what I heard, he truly... cared for her." She flinched, remembering the letter Daniel had written. "It's not like they only just met, and no, she does not have a job. Not the nine to five, I believe is how it is termed of late, type of one. She designs clothing."

"I see..." Claymore nodded, and gave a little sigh. "That's odd. The woman I was in love with once wanted to do that. Never saw her name in any magazine or on TV, so I guess she gave up that idea." He tapped his chin. "That's not good news. She could design clothing from Gull Cottage."

"I won't... CAN'T tolerate the idea of haunting the same place she is living!" Carolyn cried. "I'll... I'll move out first!"

Claymore rolled his eyes. "Great. I tried to get you to do that for years, and you wouldn't budge. Now that I don't own the place, you're ready to pack up your chains and go. Go where? Oh, no. No, you don't. You are not moving in with ME."

"There's not enough room for the two of us," Carolyn stated flatly, and then she sighed again. "No, actually I am quite sure what will happen is somehow, some way, she will get him to move away."

"I still think you are jumping to conclusions," said Claymore. "But then, what do I know? I have only loved and lost. Have you told the Captain what you think of her? Flat out?" Without waiting for an answer, he shook his head. "No you didn't. That's the trouble with women; they don't deal with things straightforwardly. No offense intended. How do Martha and the children feel about her?"

"I think Candy and Jonathan are undecided. She was — nice — enough to bring them each a gift, but seems unsure of what to do with a child. And don't you dare say it's because she doesn't have any. I never had any and I get along well with both of them. Now, Martha," Carolyn grinned, "I do see that Martha can hardly stand her."

Claymore smiled. "Martha has sense, and she's a good soul." He tapped his chin. "Well, with both of you having doubts about Vanessa, for different reasons, I think, I guess the next step might be... what now? You know, if you fuss and fume too much, it might make the Captain more determined to like her, even if you are wrong and he only is sort of intrigued with her now." He snapped his fingers. "Just thought of another thing on your side. He did stop dating her — or she him once. It could happen again, and all your worry will be for nothing."

Carolyn frowned. "I'm_ not_ in love. I just don't want that shallow hussy in my home."

"Uh-huh."

"You know, we've been talking all about ME, and that makes me seem like her, which will never do. Why don't you tell me about this love you lost, Claymore?"

The lanky man let out a sigh. "Aggie Berns. Sweet, fair, gentle Aggie. The light of my heart. You really want to hear?"

Carolyn nodded. Silently, she had her doubts. Claymore's poetic spurts were not as beautiful as the Captain's. Besides, she thought this story was about Aggie Berns, not Robert Burns.

"Well, it was just after college. I had dated this really neat gal named Paula, but I was just too much for her."

"In what sense?"

"You probably haven't heard of him, but she swore I looked just like Gregory Peck, the movie star."

"Oh, I've seen a movie or two," Carolyn said. After Mr. Wilkie's visit, she had gone one night and invisibly watched the movie that the family had seen the night he broke in. "Was he the fellow who played Mr. Chicken?"

Looking utterly annoyed, Claymore drew himself up and glared at her. "No. That was Don Knotts. He and I are nothing alike. Gregory Peck is more like me, suave, debonair, handsome." He shook his head. "Now, it's rude to interrupt. You'd get along with humans better if you remembered this stuff."

"Sorry. You were saying?"

"Right. Well, we broke up around the same time as Aggie and her steady boyfriend went into one of the off periods of their on and off again relationship. She was sure it was the finale for them and was distraught. Paula knew that my amazing charms could heal the most broken of hearts, so she introduced us." He fell silent a moment, then continued. "It was magic. A once in a lifetime encounter. She looked into my eyes and for once, I did not think of money." He glanced over to make sure she was impressed.

"Wow," Carolyn replied dutifully.

"Yes, wow, indeed, my child."

"I am not your child. So, what went wrong?"

"My charisma and — machismo — were just too overpowering for her. Oh, it was going well, but we were blind to the potential calamity looming. She could have burned out in my glow. But then, we heard the bells ringing."

"The bells?"

Claymore sighed again. "It was Stuart, her boyfriend. He had seen the error of his ways and wanted her back. Aggie knew she could not cage one such as me; I could make so many women happy over the years, after all. So, unselfishly, she let me go and returned to him."

"I'm sorry, Claymore," Carolyn said, truly meaning it. There was silence, and then she continued. "I suppose I'd better go. You probably are due at Ed Peavey's, or somewhere, for Thanksgiving."

Shaking his head, Claymore replied, "Nope. I'm on my own, except for you. I've got a couple of chicken legs and a package of hot rolls. You're welcome to, er — you can't, can you?"

"I can drink something."

"Great. We'll have a party, then. I bet we could even find a movie on TV. You said you like movies. Maybe Gregory Peck is on." He picked up a schedule.

"When did you buy a TV?" Carolyn asked.

"Oh, I didn't. Aunt Enid left me one." He thumbed through the pages of the guide. "No, no Pecks, but I bet you'd like this. _Bell, Book, and Candle. _It's got James Stewart and Kim Novak."

"Well, if the name Stewart won't bring up bad memories..."

"Spelled differently. Besides, it's a good film."

"Then, consider me your partner for dinner and a movie."

Claymore's face brightened. "Gee, thanks! I'm glad for the company. Where do you like to sit? The couch is fairly comfortable, or I have the easy chair. Norrie says it's lumpy, though."

"Claymore..." she sighed. "I'm a ghost. I can't feel the lumps. If there are some, won't bother me. I have no feelings. Not physical, anyway." She shrugged. "I don't even need to sit."

"Yeah, you do. I'll be nervous if you're just standing there, hovering. Do you like cocoa? Or I have instant coffee?"

She made a face. "Instant? No, thanks. I think if you don't mind, I will try the cocoa." She frowned. "I suppose I haven't been a very good guest, so far. I should have brought something. Madeira, or brandy, perhaps. I'm sorry."

"True, but you're new at this socializing stuff," Claymore dismissed it. "And, you're suffering the throes of heartache. I know, I well know, that clouds one's mind." He gave her a profoundly sorrowful look. "But, life goes on, or maybe it doesn't. Sorry. However, for future reference, I prefer Scotch."

Carolyn grimaced again. "Scotch? If I remember, Scotch tastes like a cross between iodine and the foulest tasting medicine known to mankind — but to each, their own."

"Right." Claymore paused. "You're sure you can't eat any dinner? Maybe you should try, just once."

Carolyn smiled and decided to humor the man. "Very well, but don't blame me if you have to clean your chair."

"I won't. Now you sit here," he gestured, "and I'll turn on the set and let it warm up. You're sure you haven't seen the movie? You're in for a treat."

"I'm positive. What's it about? I can see where you'd need a candle, so you could read the book, but how is a bell related to the other two?"

"You'll have to wait and see," he said mysteriously, obviously enjoying being "one up" on Carolyn, just for once. "But I do think you will like it. You need a treat for your birthday, and a Thanksgiving birthday at that. Those are special, aren't they? Only happen once every seven years or so?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Sort of special, I suppose."

"Well, then. You've already made the day special for me, seeking out MY company and being nice to me, for a change. So, I'll return the favor."

XXX

Two hours later, Carolyn sniffed. "It's sad that she had to give up her powers to be with the guy, but I'm glad it all worked out. It would be worth it, if it were the right man."

"Of course it worked out," said Claymore, echoing her sniff. "The course of true love never runs smooth, or something like that, right? But it's a love story, and they were soul mates. It HAD to work out. Just took a bit of give and take." He looked at his Mickey Mouse watch. "It's about nine — would you like to... uh... take a walk or anything?"

Mrs. Muir shook her head. "I do want to see the children for at least a minute before they go to bed. I'll have to pop fast to make it."

"Oh, that's too bad. It's still warm out. Maybe another time, Mrs. Muir? This evening has been fun — with us getting along, even if it wasn't fun that brought you here."

"Maybe so." She smiled and disappeared, and for an instant, Claymore felt a breath of air against his cheek that felt faintly like a kiss. "Goodnight, Claymore, and thank you," echoed through the room, and the landlord knew she was gone.

A heartbeat later, she appeared in the nursery, but remained invisible. She did not want to introduce herself to Miss Blair, after all. Fortunately, there was no sign of Vanessa. The Captain and the kids were just entering the room, in fact.

"Mrs. Muir!" Candy and Jonathan exclaimed softly. Their father looked up sharply just in time to see her fade in from invisibility.

"Good evening, my dears," she smiled. "Did you enjoy your day?"

"We missed you," Candy said.

"Yeah. The house felt empty all day," Jonathan made a face.

"I'm sure you enjoyed Miss Blair's company," Carolyn demurred, her eyes drifting to Daniel.

"She's not you," Candy insisted.

"No way," her brother nodded.

"Well, I'm here now," Carolyn said. "And it's time for you to go off to dreamland."

After a few mild protests, the kids climbed into bed and closed their eyes and the adults stepped back outside, their task accomplished.

"We did miss you, and the old place was quite — it did not feel right," Daniel murmured. "Even Vanessa noticed it." Carolyn's brow arched. "She thought the... hostility... she had sensed was absent today." He rubbed a finger across his moustache. "She was alone in welcoming the lack."

"Was she?" Carolyn's eyes flashed for a moment. "I am sorry I was missed, I just felt it would be better not to be here today."

"I don't like to think of you wandering the beach... or wherever all alone..." he protested. "You didn't have to be by yourself today."

"I would have been alone if I was here," Carolyn answered quietly. "You all were busy together, and I couldn't very well pop in and introduce myself. Besides..." she continued, "I WASN'T alone all day."

Surprise flickered across the handsome seaman's face. "Oh? There was a — spectral sorority sisters' meeting?"

"No, Captain. Actually I had... well, I had a date."

His eyebrows went up. "A date? You said you didn't... you hadn't run across anyone you knew on your side of the veil. Is... Was it...? Robert?"

She sniffed. "No. I wouldn't spend five minutes with him, unless it was to tell him exactly what I think of him."

"I see... well..." Daniel stopped. _How could he ask her who she was with? It would make him seem as curious as... as a female._

"Yes, Captain?"

"I... I suppose I was wondering if you plan on being away from Gull Cottage tomorrow, too."

"I don't know yet. Why shouldn't I, if I choose?"

"Of course you have every right to, Madam. I would not dispute that at all."

She shook her head. "No. I believe I will be at Gull Cottage. Probably in the attic, or something, where I won't be a distraction to... anyone. Why do you ask?"

"Understand, I am not exactly asking you to — baby-sit, but it will give me a measure of — peace — to know you are here." He fingered one ear. "Ed Peavey asked Martha to go out to lunch, where someone other than herself cooks, tomorrow, some time ago. And, while you were away, Jacob Finley called. He and his son, Mark, would like to meet me tomorrow at noon for an impromptu business meeting. I would like to freelance, from time to time, for the _Schooner Bay Beacon. _Mark Finley will be taking over the paper officially in December, and this would be a good chance to discuss terms informally."

"I see," she said quietly. "Writing for the _Beacon_... well, that could or could NOT be a good thing. As I said, I don't know the current Finley that well. Never had cause to haunt him. But given the Finley's reputations, watch yourself, all right?" She paused. "So... Vanessa has actually agreed to stay and watch the children?" Carolyn stopped speaking, but her eyes went on, saying; _She doesn't seem like the type to spend the afternoon with a seven and nine-year-old._

The Captain frowned. "Of course. My children are hardly hellions. They are simple to watch, hardly need it, in fact. But, I prefer that they have an adult at hand, if there is an emergency. Which there won't be, but you are a calmer, more experienced person than Vanessa. So, should the unlikely event happen, I would know... blast it, woman, I'd feel better if you were available for the children tomorrow."

"Of course," Carolyn nodded. "Don't blast at me, Captain. I'll make sure no harm comes to them. I'm just sorry I shan't be able to play, or go down to the beach with them. It's still warm, for the end of November."

"Why wouldn't you?"

_Blast it. Men could be so thick._

"Because they will no doubt leave that joy to... Vanessa." She gave him an exasperated look. "And, I did not think we were planning on introducing me to Miss Blair."

"We... no, I wasn't." He frowned. "I can see where that does present a problem."

"A relatively minor one, I suppose. Good night, Captain."

On that note, she vanished.

**Friday, November 29**

The morning after Thanksgiving began in a flurry of activity. Ed Peavey was due between ten-thirty and eleven to take Martha to Keystone for lunch and a movie. They probably would not return until late afternoon — four at the earliest. The housekeeper took a few minutes to lay out the Captain's best civilian suit with a matching shirt, tie, and shoes, and then had to get ready herself. For his part, the Captain was completely consumed with gathering his writing portfolio, then getting himself together. When he was decent, Carolyn popped into the Master Cabin.

"Well?" he asked, turning around.

"I don't know. When was your last trim?"

He considered. "Ah, it's been a while. Perhaps Martha would have time to attend to it?"

"Captain, honestly, she's going on a date. When is your appointment?"

"We're supposed to meet at the country club for lunch at twelve-thirty, sharp," he answered.

"It's ten now. You have time to dress and then leave early enough to pop into the barbershop. I'll bet they won't be doing much business today," Carolyn said, shaking her head.

"Is the suit all right?"

"The only contemporary men's fashions I've seen lately are yours, Claymore's, and any workmen who come to Gull Cottage. I am not sure how in fashion you are, but you never look bad," Carolyn assured him.

"Nice thing about the Navy; we don't have to worry about such things. Uniforms simplify life," he grumbled.

"I'm sure you look very dashing," she smiled, and then was annoyed with herself for relaxing with him when she was supposed to be angry.

"Of course I do," Daniel winked, and then grinned. "Dashing. Reminds me of my friend Charles. His last name is Dashire, but he tended to be somewhat of a charmer with the ladies. We teased him that he thought his name was Dashing."

"What happened? I know there's a war on; he didn't—?"

"Oh, no. Retired from the service a few years before I did. He inherited a shipping concern in Philly from his wife's father. Don't look like that. All his chasing was done before he wed. But, afterwards, he could still have an effect on women, even without trying."

"As do you, though you are too modest to say so?"

Daniel shrugged. "Your words, Madam."

Before she could come up with a rejoinder, there was a light tap on the door. "Daniel? Darling, who are you talking to?"

"Blast," the Captain muttered. Mrs. Muir's look of amusement just annoyed him more. "Just, let me hang up, and I'll be with you, Vanessa."

"There's not a phone in here," Carolyn reminded him.

In a whisper, he replied, "True, but she does not know that." Louder, he said, "Good-bye, Charles. Give my best to Lynne and the children."

"No television for a week," Carolyn reminded him, giggling at the glare he shot her way before stalking out of the room.

"Daniel, do you really have to go on this — outing — today?" Vanessa pouted.

"Yes, Vanessa. I want to become established as a writer, ergo, meeting with people who want me to write for them is necessary."

"I am not a dimwit. I realize that, but why can't I go with you? I could help you." Vanessa's testy tone seemed somewhat out of sync with the way she batted her eyelashes, in Carolyn's opinion.

"Someone must stay with the children," Daniel pointed out.

"What about Martha?" the young woman demanded.

"She has a date and I would not think of asking her to change her plans," the seaman firmly informed her. "Besides, this is a good chance for you and the kids to get to know each other even more." He turned a dazzling smile on her. "You aren't intimidated by them, are you?"

"Of course not," Vanessa insisted. "I just..."

"Good. Now, I need to go to town a bit early, so enjoy your day," the Captain nodded briskly, heading toward the stairs.

"Early? But... but..." Vanessa stammered.

From her invisible perch in midair, Carolyn laughed in delight. Granted, she had despised Lucius Finley, but perhaps his heirs did not deserve her ire. They had at least managed to put a crimp in Miss Blair's plotting.

XXX

By ten forty-five, both Martha and the Captain were gone. Vanessa sat on the edge of a chair in the living room while Jonathan and Candy were opposite her on the sofa.

"So, what would you two like to do, today?" Vanessa asked too brightly. "Maybe Candy and I could dress up her dolls, but I don't think you would enjoy that, Jonathan."

"Uh-no," the boy shook his head. "And, Candy doesn't have a lot of dolls... uh, just her Mrs. Muir doll," he continued, prompted by a nudge from his sister, which was not observed by Vanessa.

"We could play with Jonathan's matchbox cars," Candy suggested.

"Yeah, cool," her brother nodded. Then, he looked at Vanessa. "But, you oughta change clothes. You don't sit on the floor in stuff like that."

Looking down at her designer suit, Miss Blair's smile faltered. "How about — a game?"

"Okay," Candy agreed. "We've got Monopoly, cards, jacks, Risk, Operation, and pick-up sticks."

"And dominoes," Jonathan reminded her. "And Candy Land."

"I'm too old for that," Candy made a face.

"We have Chutes and Ladders..."

"That's the same game. No."

"Just — pick one," Vanessa said, too cheerfully.

"Pick-up Sticks! Operation!" Jonathan and Candy said together.

"I said mine first," Jonathan stated. "Stop being so bossy, Candy!"

"But I'm older and a girl!" his sister protested. "I should get first pick!" Both children looked at Vanessa.

"You're the tiebreaker," Jonathan said. "Which one?"

"Operation, I guess," Vanessa shrugged.

"Figures you'd take HER side," Jonathan scowled, suddenly looking a great deal like his father.

Observing invisibly, Carolyn grinned, and waited for Vanessa's answer.

"Look, I REALLY don't care," Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Regardless which one it is you will have to show me how it is played."

"You don't know how to play games?" Candy asked in disbelief. "Didn't your mom or dad teach you?"

"Of course they did. I do not suppose you would entertain Bridge as an option?"

Jonathan scratched his head. "You want to build a bridge? I have some Lego's, but not enough for a bridge, and I don't have an Erector Set. Dad said maybe for Christmas. What do you want to build a bridge for, and where?"

"I think it's some kinda card game, Jonathan," Candy said dubiously. "Penelope the Hassler mentioned her mom plays it with Danny Shoemaker's mom."

"I don't wanna play anything those two play," Jonathan shook his head.

"What's wrong with Penelope and Danny?" Vanessa asked.

"They're stuck up," Jonathan said.

"And Penelope's — too frilly," Candy made a face.

"I see nothing wrong with frills," Vanessa sniffed. "But, let's forget about Bridge. It's really not a kid's game."

"I guess we could play cards," Jonathan shrugged. "We could play 'Go Fish'."

"Or 'Go Spit in the Ocean'!" Candy put in.

Carolyn watched with delight as a somewhere between sick and disgusted look passed over Vanessa's face.

"Not that one?" Jonathan asked, also seeing Vanessa's expression. "Okay, what about Monopoly? Everyone knows how to play that. Even Claymore does. I saw him and Deke playing it once in Deke's shop. He cheats, though."

"I suppose that would be as good a choice as any," Vanessa shrugged.

After an hour had passed and there was no end in sight to the game, Vanessa began to think of it as _Monotony, _though she knew better than to express that aloud. The rattle of the dice, the prolonged stillness, and the children's exuberance had her ready to weep in frustration.

"Now, what is the end goal on this again?"

"To win," Jonathan said in a "what else could it be?" tone.

"But, when do you know who won?" Vanessa amended her question.

"When everyone except one person is bankrupt," Candy replied.

"Oh. You know, this is much TOO NICE a day to be cooped up inside. You REALLY don't need to feel obliged to keep me company, children. Why don't you run along outside and play a while?" Vanessa suggested.

"Okay," Candy shrugged. "You have to come with us though; Dad said you were company, so that means we can't just run off and leave you."

"Oh, really..." Vanessa protested, "...you don't want a grownup along, do you?"

"Sure!" Jonathan grinned. "We can go down to the beach and look for shells and driftwood, and a starfish or sumthin'."

"But I'm not really dressed for..."

Candy put her hands on her hips. "Didn't you bring any NORMAL clothing?"

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Vanessa stared back at her. "This IS normal clothing. And, really, I don't mind if you two want to go have fun without me. I can — I can read or watch television in here."

"TV's on the blink," said Jonathan. "At least it was this morning."

"Yeah, so you might as well come with us," Candy added. "Dad told us you were looking out for us, so you have to come. You'll just have to wear those shoes, that's all. We promise not to walk too fast."

"But..."

"C'mon," Jonathan added, grabbing the woman's hand and leading her toward the door.

"I need my coat..." Vanessa protested. "And I'm sure it feels like rain..."

"You can wear Martha's extra coat, and if it starts to rain, or anything, we'll come back," Candy said.

"Are you sure you aren't too tired?" Vanessa asked as she was being hauled toward the door.

"Naa!" Jonathan grinned. "We got lots of sleep last night!"

Candy nodded. "Yeah, and then when we come back, you can fix us lunch! Now, let's get going!"

"Er, lunch. Yes, you go play while I — figure out lunch!"

Candy shook her head again. "You have plenty of time. We won't be ready to eat for a couple of hours yet." She turned her blue eyes, so much like her father's up to the young woman. "Don't you WANT to play with us?" Her face was troubled.

"Yeah... I thought you LIKED us," Jonathan added.

"I do, I just... You two shouldn't be obliged to keep me occupied. I'm being a bother. You haven't had any time to play together since I got here. I'm trying to do you a favor, give you a chance to have — kid time."

"Oh!" Candy exclaimed. "Don't let that bother you! Jonathan and I get LOTS of time together, like last night when you and Dad went out. We were looking forward to today with you!"

"Tell you what," Jonathan added. "I think Martha has a pair of rubber boots that will fit you. They're in her bathroom. You can wear them so you don't get your shoes messed up, okay? Now come on!"

Seeing no way out without alienating the children, Vanessa nodded, and ten minutes later, they were out the door and heading down the path toward the beach, Carolyn waving invisibly after them. For a few seconds, the ghost dallied with the notion of sparking a light shower, just enough to make Vanessa's hoity-toity, beautiful, designer outfit a wreck, but she didn't want to give the children a chill, and besides, Vanessa would rather be in the house, so Carolyn was not about to accommodate her wishes.

XXX

The next hour-and-a-half passed very quickly for the children, and very, VERY slowly for the young lady from Philadelphia. Martha's galoshes were better than high heels in the sand, but they were also a size too big on Vanessa's feet, so she had trouble keeping pace with the energetic Candy and Jonathan. In addition, they kept handing her... THINGS to examine, or put in her purse that she had insisted on carrying. Before the morning was through, Vanessa found herself with a handbag full of shells and rocks worn smooth by the ocean's waves, and it was only after great protest that she did not end up with a small octopus. When Jonathan handed her an old ship's lantern that he had found half buried in the sand, she pulled to a halt.

"All right, children," she sighed. "It's time to head back."

"Hey," Jonathan said, pointing to the woman's face. "Your eyes are all black, and there is a spider on your cheek."

Vanessa shrieked, dropped her purse and Jonathan's lantern and brushed off her face.

"Don't be silly, Jonathan!" Candy scoffed. "That's not a spider! It's a false eyelash!"

"What are those?" Jon asked as Vanessa's face turned a deeper shade of red and she stooped to pick up the fallen items, including the eyelash, which she put in a side pocket of her purse. Quickly she removed the other one also and it followed its mate.

"I dunno, but Linda Coburn's mom wears 'em too. I think they are supposed to make you prettier, or something."

"Oh."

With a shrug, the children headed for Gull Cottage, Vanessa trailing behind them.

XXX

When they finally reached the kitchen, Candy looked up at their guest expectantly. "So what are you making for lunch? Martha likes to make red flannel hash on the weekends."

"Didn't you eat enough yesterday? Couldn't we — er — take a day off from that?"

Candy rubbed her nose. "From EATING? Heck, no. I'm starved!"

"Me, too," agreed Jonathan. "Dad says it's important we eat good meals three times a day."

"I — I really don't know how to make — flannel red hash," said Vanessa, wiping her smeared makeup off her face with a paper towel. "Would one of you bring me the phone book?"

"Why?" Candy asked, mystified.

"Surely there's a nice, quaint little gourmet shop that would deliver us a good lunch. A catering service, perhaps?"

Jonathan snorted a laugh. "In Schooner Bay? Uh-uh. There's the drug store if you want a hamburger, and Norrie will do orders to go, if you pick them up, and the grocery store is trying out a... deli-something..."

"Delicatessen," Candy put in. "But Norrie is only open for dinner today, and the drug store doesn't deliver."

"Keystone has a McDonald's," Jonathan said helpfully.

"They don't deliver either," Candy sniffed and then turned back to Vanessa. "You don't know how to cook?"

"I can poach an egg," Vanessa said, looking tired.

Both children made a face. "Eww! Not for lunch!"

"We could go somewhere in your car," said Jonathan.

"Uh, no," Vanessa said hastily, not wanting sand all over the rental car, or really relishing a long trip with two hungry children. "It's only a two-seater."

"I guess we can go see what we can find from yesterday," Candy said, turning and heading for the kitchen. "Leftovers are good."

"Yeah," Jonathan agreed. "I get first dibs on the mince pie!"

"Okay," Candy shrugged. "I wanted the pumpkin anyway."

Vanessa again found herself trailing after them. She rallied enough to remind them not to eat dessert first, then gave up and let them get their own meal while she assembled a plate of cold leftovers for herself.

XXX

After lunch was finished, and the few dishes they had used were rinsed and in the sink, the children looked again at their unwilling guardian.

"What do you want to do now, Miss Blair?" Jonathan asked. "We can ride bikes, if you want. You can use Candy's bike, 'cause it's bigger — or we can go roller skating."

"Silly!" Candy scoffed. "She can't roller skate! Our skates won't clip on to her high heels, and you can't use boots for that."

"Wouldn't you like to stay inside and... Do something here?" Vanessa tried. "I'm sort of..."

Jonathan shook his head. "Dad says we need lots of exercise to grow big and strong and I want to be as tall as he is, some day."

Candy peered at their guest. "You aren't tired, are you, Miss Blair?"

Vanessa smiled wanly. "Just a little bit. Tell you what, I'll just sit on the porch where I can see you, and you can ride your bikes, or whatever."

"Okay," they nodded, heading for the door. A very unwilling Vanessa followed, and a vastly amused ghost accompanied the three of them.

XXX

Within forty-five minutes, Carolyn was ready to pull out the unwanted guest's black hair out by its roots. After giving the children only token attention, she had taken a seat on the porch and proceeded to read over what appeared to be another of Daniel's old letters. Not once did she glance in the direction where Candy and Jonathan were playing.

Suddenly there was a shout from Candy. "Jonathan! Watch out for Scruffy! He's right there in front of..." The sound of bike tires skidding on gravel came next, then a crash, then a howl.

"_Owwwwwwww!!!!" _cried Jonathan, "My knee! My knee!"

Vanessa froze, looking around desperately for some kind of help.

"You — you — fluffy idiot, do something!" Carolyn snapped, though the other woman couldn't hear a word she said. Finally, Vanessa folded her letter, put it on the seat of the chair, and began picking her way across the porch on her stilts masquerading as shoes, just as Candy clamored up the steps.

"Miss Blair! Jonathan fell off his bike and his knee's hurt!"

"I — I don't think I can pick him up," Vanessa gulped, her eyes straying for a second to her suit as she imagined what blood would do to it.

A little impatiently, Candy snapped, "Nothing's BROKEN." She turned to Jonathan. "Lean on me and we'll get in the house. Why don't you... hold the door, Miss Blair?"

"All right," the woman nodded obediently.

XXX

Going slowly and patiently, the girl and her little brother made their way to the kitchen of Gull Cottage, where Candy first surveyed the extremely bloody knee and then their houseguest. "What do we do first?" she asked Carolyn Muir, who had appeared directly behind Vanessa.

"Wet washrag," Carolyn said, pointing toward the drawer. "Let's get the surface dirt off and as much blood as we can."

"I don't know..." Vanessa whined.

"Never mind," Candy sighed, heading toward the drawer. Wetting the towel as Carolyn instructed, she placed it on Jonathan's knee and gently and tenderly started removing what blood and gravel she could.

A few minutes later, she sought Carolyn's help again. "It looks better... I don't think there is any glass or gravel in there. What do we do now?"

"We stop!" said Jonathan.

"I don't know," Vanessa answered. "It does look better. What do you think?"

Candy rolled her eyes, and shook her head firmly. "We're not done yet, Jonathan."

"Soap and warm water," Carolyn said. "Martha keeps a medicated soap under the sink."

"We need to wash it with soap," Candy continued.

"No!" Fresh tears came to Jonathan's eyes. "It'll sting, Candy!"

"Uh-uh," she argued, heading for the sink as Carolyn instructed. "Martha used this soap on me last month when I scraped my elbow, remember? It didn't sting at all!"

"Yes it will!" Jonathan wailed.

"Jonathan..." Carolyn appeared to him, speaking softly. "Candy isn't lying to you, and neither am I... Honey, Vanessa can't see me, do you understand? Now, come on, sweetie. Help us out here. It's up to you, me and Candy."

Jonathan gulped and slowly nodded his head as Candy soaped a new soft washrag. "Okay. Candy. Is it all right if I close my eyes while you do it?"

Candy grinned. "Sure, Jonathan! I always do!"

The wound was cleaned thoroughly five minutes later, and Candy, under more prompting from Carolyn had made a game out of drying it by blowing on her brother's knee.

"All right! Good job!" Carolyn cried. "We're almost done. We need to get some medicine on it, and then cover it with a gauze bandage."

"You need to put medicine on it?" Jonathan's eyes started to tear up. "I don't want any — It'll sting!"

Candy gave Jonathan a fast look, her eyes reminding her brother that Vanessa, who was sitting in the kitchen watching dumbly, could not hear their favorite ghost.

"It won't. Martha bought a new kind. It's an ointment, and it's like magic. Jonathan, if it hurts, you can have my dessert for a week!"

"Wow!" Jonathan's eyes grew big. "It must really not!"

Candy nodded, and glanced toward Carolyn.

"She keeps it in that top cupboard over there," Carolyn said, pointing to a cabinet next to the sink. "The bandages are there, too."

"Can you get me the medicine and the bandages and the tape that are up in that cabinet, there, Miss Blair?" Candy asked the girl. Dumbly, Vanessa complied, and in just a few minutes, Jonathan's knee was medicated and wrapped, perhaps with more gauze than was really needed, but too much was better than too little. "There!" Candy said, patting the last piece of tape into place gently and looking quite satisfied with herself. "All done!" She smiled. "Boy! I can't wait to tell Dad!"

"Tell Dad what?!?!?" a deep voice boomed from the kitchen doorway. "Vanessa! Candy! Jonathan!" His glance bounced from face to face. "I just drove up and found your bikes on the side of the road — Scruffy was hiding under the porch... What on Earth has happened here?"

Suddenly, Candy was a little less enthused about "telling Dad." Gulping, she began to explain, omitting only the part about Carolyn Muir helping. She would add that in later, when Vanessa was not around. To her great relief, her father's face began to soften.

"Everyone is all right, then?" he double-checked.

Candy nodded.

"Well, I am very proud of you for handling the matter so ably, Candy. And, I am glad you were not seriously hurt, Jonathan." He leaned over and carefully unwound the gauze and examined the wound. "We'll keep it elevated and you can take it easy for the remainder of the evening, mate. If you didn't want dishwashing duty, I think you could have come up with a less painful way around it, lad." Daniel winked and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Don't you think maybe he should go to the emergency room?" Vanessa asked hesitantly.

"For a scraped knee?" Daniel blinked. "Candy did all that they would do, for considerably less money, not to mention time. From what I know of emergency rooms, the scrape would be healed by the time we saw anyone. Besides, Schooner Bay does not have an emergency room. I don't think it has many emergencies, either."

"What's this about an emergency? Ed's a constable. He hasn't gotten very far down the road if there's a need to stop him," Martha asked, having come in without being heard in the general upheaval.

"No emergency," Daniel promised and briefed her on the situation.

Once more, Jonathan had to put up with an adult examining his wound, but Martha pronounced Candy's first aid a good job.

XXX

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Martha reported that she had enjoyed her day with Ed, and Daniel added that his meeting with the Finleys had gone very well. Around nine, he announced it was time for the kids to go to bed and excused himself to tuck them in.

Carolyn was waiting in their room. Upon seeing her, Candy beamed, "Thanks, Mrs. Muir, for helping me know what to do today."

"Yeah, and for just being there," Jonathan chimed in. "You made it feel better... and me!"

The ghost smiled. "I'm glad I was here for you."

"As am I, dear lady," Daniel informed her. "My children are precious to me. It is reassuring that they have a guardian angel, as it were, in you. My thanks, Madam."

She inclined her head, accepting his praise gracefully.

As they stepped into the hall after getting the kids settled, Daniel whispered to Carolyn, "Where the devil was Vanessa during all this?"

"Reading your old love letters, Daniel darling," Carolyn answered with a hint of sarcasm, before popping out.

The Captain was still pondering whether or not to address this troubling revelation as he re-entered the living room, but before he could speak, Vanessa did. "Daniel, I've so enjoyed my time here with you — and with the children — but, my cousins in Kennebunkport would NEVER forgive me if I didn't come see them while I'm here in Maine. So, I'm going to leave first thing in the morning. I called them just this afternoon, and they were a little put out with me for not coming to see them already. I know this is sudden, but there will be other times, darling." She smiled. "No, don't try and talk me out of it. I really must go. And since I want to make an early start, I'd better go get my beauty sleep."

"If that is what you feel best, of course," Daniel nodded. "I will bid you a good night, then."

By the time the kids got up for breakfast the next morning, Vanessa's visit was history.

END CHAPTER FOUR 


	5. Chapter 5

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

Mary and Amanda

Chapter Five

December in Schooner Bay started with a bang. No sooner did Daniel Gregg get his first assignments from Mark Finley, than Martha received a call from Mrs. Post, head of the Schooner Bay Grammar School PTA, asking if it would be all right if the women held their last meeting before the holidays at Gull Cottage. Although Daniel grumbled a little about having his work interrupted by a "bunch of hens," he recognized the importance of the matter and dealt with the 'invasion' with good grace. From her invisible vantage-point, Carolyn Muir was most interested in how schools might have changed over the years. A great deal, as it turned out, and mentally, Carolyn made notes to ask Martha about 'jungle gyms,' 'swimming pools,' and 'crosswalk duty,' but by the time the ladies became embroiled in conversation about car pool scheduling, she was starting to get antsy. That discussion was tabled until after the holiday following fifteen minutes of debate, and then turned to plans for the Christmas Pageant.

Finally, at four thirty, the meeting adjourned and Carolyn listened to a little of the whispered conversation as the ladies began to depart.

"He isn't dating anyone yet, is he?" Mrs. Post asked.

"No... But I wish he would. Shame to let a good-looking man like that just sit," Mrs. Jenkins returned.

Jane Shoemaker looked at Millie Jenkins over her glasses. "Mrs. Jenkins! You are a married woman!"

"Married, not dead," she answered, and gazed for a moment at Carolyn's portrait over the mantle. "You know, that woman was beautiful. Shame she died so young."

"Do you think he has ever seen her ghost?" Helen Johnson whispered.

"Honestly, Helen, do you think he and the children would still be here if a ghost was rattling her chains all over the place?" Mrs. Post shook her head.

"Oh—" she shrugged. "Silly question, I suppose. Still, HE isn't a ghost, and I hear his wife passed over a year ago now. I have a single sister in Pripet. She'd be just his type..."

"Ninety percent of the women in this room could be his type if he was interested in them and they weren't married," Mrs. Stewart said, with a grin.

"Martha would know if he was — how do I put this delicately? On the lookout again?" Susan Fields put in. "Maybe there's a way we can ask her."

"Are you ladies ready to go?" the housekeeper asked, standing in the doorway between the living room and the foyer. "My boss is due home soon, and the kids have homework to go over with him."

The women looked at each other. A small hesitation threatened to stretch out between them as most of them tried to think of a way to pry, but finally, Mrs. Post broke the silence. "Yes, Martha. We've got our business taken care of for today. Thank you, and thank Mr. Gregg, for allowing us to use Gull Cottage. It is nice to know that all the rumors were mere fluff."

"What rumors?" Martha asked innocently, sneaking a glance at Carolyn, who had appeared in the far corner of the room.

"Uh... you know..." Jane Shoemaker paused. "About the G-H-O-S-T." She looked about the room, hurriedly. "Now of course, I, for one, never took much stock in such nonsense."

"Me either," Gloria Hassenhammer echoed, adjusting the ruffle on her sleeve. "But you know how _some_ people are."

"Well, I won't say there is or isn't one," Martha replied. "But, I will say that we've never been bothered by a ghost." That was the honest truth. Carolyn Muir was NO bother at all.

"I... see," Mrs. Shoemaker nodded, not really seeing at all, and she headed toward the door, the other lady's following. No sooner had the front door closed than Carolyn appeared to Martha, giggling.

"Darn, Martha! I can't dock you on TV tonight!"

"Nope," Martha laughed back. "_The Adventures of Robin Hood_ is on, and Captain Gregg said I have control over the TV tonight! I wasn't taking any chances!" Martha glanced at Carolyn. "So, was this afternoon educational for you?"

"It will be, as soon as you clear up a few points. For instance, what is a jungle gym?"

Martha smiled. "Playground equipment — steel bars welded together, more or less cube shaped, but open. Maybe about twelve feet high and eighteen feet square. Kids can climb in, out and through the bars, and climb and swing on them... turn upside down, hang by their knees..."

"...Like monkeys in a jungle," Carolyn nodded. "And swimming pools? There was a swimming hole here in town when I was alive; I take it that theirs is something like it, perhaps?"

"Same concept, but the hole is lined with cement and the water is full of chlorine so that there are no germs in it."

"I see — and crosswalk duty?"

"The ladies take turns watching the major intersection near the school and before and after classes. They stand in the crosswalk in the middle of the street and signal the cars and/or students when it is safe to cross. A little girl got hit last year when she crossed without looking and a motorist wasn't being careful," Martha said. "New concept here, but in Philly they had them all the time at the four corners nearest the school." She paused. "Anything else?"

"Not really. Except I actually wouldn't mind the "gossiping girlies," as the Captain calls them, showing up again. I learned a lot." A wistful look crossed Carolyn's face.

"What is it?" Martha asked.

"Oh, nothing."

"Yes it is. You sound like the kids. Saying "Nothing" is something."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "You are too smart, Martha. It's just that I was hearing the ladies talking about the Winter Pageant, and — do you think the Captain would mind if I attended?"

"I think he'd be delighted," Martha replied sincerely and gently. "Especially if..."

"If? You can't get away with a "nothing" answer either, Martha," Carolyn wagged a finger at the housekeeper.

"If you could show up visibly, so that people would think he was dating and get off his back." The older seeming woman flushed. "And the kids would be thrilled, either way."

"Maybe we can figure out something," Carolyn said, frowning. "If I could figure out a way to avoid touching people, because I can't."

"If you could, I could give you some pointers about your dress and hairstyle, so you wouldn't be as noticeable in a crowd," Martha grinned. "Not that you aren't beautiful just the way you are... I love your blue dress. It's so elegant! I would do anything to have your figure and cheekbones. Now..." She broke off. "You're still frowning. What is it?"

"Christmas," Carolyn sighed. "I want to do something for you all, but my resources are rather limited."

"Just having you here is enough," Martha said warmly. "We understand."

Carolyn shook her head. "But I want to... and I can't, really. Most of my things were taken away years ago. The only reason I have my telescope is because it was a ship's telescope, with the binnacle, and as such was treated more like furniture than anything portable. Besides, when Da... the Captain bought the house; he bought it, too. I did manage to hide a few small items I would gladly sell, if I could buy something you and the children would like. But somehow I don't think even if I could sell the Georgian silver service I hid in the attic, it would be enough to buy some of the toys I have seen the kids looking at on the television, and I don't have a clue what to give you or the Captain."

"You might be surprised on that silver service," Martha replied. "As for the Captain, well, NO woman ever really knows what to give any man in her life, be he husband, boyfriend, father, brother, friend, what-have-you. It's one of those unwritten rules. But, as for me, and I am sure I am speaking for the family on this; we really don't want you to worry about it. Just enjoy the day with us. Hopefully, there won't be any out-of-town-ex's showing up." She shook her head. "Unless, of course, your date comes back?"

"My date?" Carolyn asked blankly.

"Yes. The one the Captain mentioned you had on Thanksgiving."

"Oh..." Carolyn said, very glad she couldn't blush. "THAT date. No, if he comes back, it won't be as my date." Idly the ghost wondered if Claymore would be asked to spend any of the holidays with the Gregg crew.

"Sounds... ambiguous," said Martha. "But, really, Mrs. Muir. I understand your desire to want to give the kids and the rest of us something for Christmas, but hocking your silver service is too much. I think between the two of us we can come up with another plan. I for one would consider your help with the holiday preparations and cooking the best gift of all."

"But I would do that anyway!" Carolyn protested.

"Nevertheless, I would love it," Martha insisted firmly. "As for everyone else, we still have time. We'll work on it together."

XXX

With Christmas drawing closer, Daniel gave in to the necessity of tradition and resigned himself to the somewhat onerous, or at least tedious, chore of addressing Christmas cards. After the first one, he wondered why with all the modern advances that had been made; no one had come up with envelope glue that was not utterly revolting to taste. Melanie had always seen to this chore. Though this thought brought him some sadness, it was not as cutting as it once had been. Perhaps he was healing?

Daniel considered this for a moment, and then realized he did need to include a note with the Darligs' card. They had invited, both over the phone and via post, the family to come to Philly for Christmas. He had told them during their call that it was impossible, but still, the greeting that had arrived in the mail yesterday had extended the offer again. Not only did he not particularly want to spend a perfectly good holiday dealing with their overbearing attitudes, but also the children were in the Christmas show and he did have a new job that he could not just leave. Besides, Thanksgiving had been less than it should have been for all of them. He wanted to make it up to the children, and to Carolyn Muir.

Just as he concluded his polite, yet succinct letter stating that there was simply no way that the Greggs could or would be in Philadelphia in the near future, the phone rang. Wishing there was a way to know who was on the other end before he picked it up, Daniel lifted the receiver.

"Captain Gregg? Claymore Muir, here. How is every little thing?"

"I'm doing well, Mr. Muir. And yourself?"

"Oh, I could be better, but all in all, I'm on an even keel. I'd be better if those dratted Boy Scouts weren't undercutting my tree sales, but they have the cute factor working for them."

"So, you have resorted to telephone solicitation to increase your sales?" Daniel asked.

"Say. I hadn't thought of that! Hmm. But that's not why I'm calling."

"Why ARE you calling?"

"There are some papers you need to sign over here for insurance purposes. You know, the sale of Gull Cottage, and all, and I'd really like to go on and get them filed by the end of the year."

Daniel glanced at the clock. "I suppose I could come over now, if that's convenient?"

"Sounds good."

With delight, Daniel closed the Darligs' card and set aside his letter project for the day.

XXX

A half-an-hour later, he was at Claymore's office. "Now, where are those papers?" Daniel asked after polite pleasantries were exchanged.

The lanky man looked abashed. "Well, er... I misplaced them."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Captain asked, "Just since you called me?"

"Well," Claymore fidgeted. "No. I knew they were missing when I called, but I thought maybe you could help me look... see them where I might be overlooking them."

For a few seconds, Daniel struggled with his temper. Finally, he nodded. "Very well. Where do we look?"

Claymore ducked into a closet, returning with a large, brown box. "This is my Gull Cottage file."

"File? It looks like a crate. Why aren't these papers with your other files?"

"Well, sheesh, you don't keep stuff about spooks out where anyone might see."

"There are documents that state there is a ghost at Gull Cottage?"

"No, but... oh, just help me look."

An hour later, Claymore had to bring out another stack of papers, since the first pile was useless.

Suddenly, Daniel picked up an old copy of the _Schooner Bay Beacon._ "What's this? Mrs. Muir's obituary?" He scanned it. "Her birthday was November twenty-eighth."

"What? Oh, yeah. She was kind of down this year because no one seemed to care about it," Claymore tossed off.

"That was Thanksgiving Day. We would have cared, had we known," Daniel frowned. "Blast." He reached in and picked up a ledger. His eyes grew wide as he read it. "By Jove!"

"You found it?" Claymore asked eagerly.

"Not the "it" we're looking for, but proof that Carolyn Muir didn't kill herself," the Captain said. "Here is a household record book that states clearly that the gas heater needed to be repaired. She also makes note of the fact that a storm was predicted for that night, and to make sure everything was closed up." He beamed. "I can clear Mrs. Muir's name. If I can take this log away that is."

"Er, well, it is irregular, but sure," Claymore nodded. He reached out to grab a pen. "I ought to make a note of checking it out to you." He went still as he lifted a notepad. "Hey! I found the insurance papers! They were under the tablet!"

"Fancy that!" Daniel smiled. "So... I need to sign these. I do need to read them over first, you know."

Claymore nodded. "Of course... Uh, Captain?"

"Yes?"

"What ARE you going to do with that log? Can I help you with whatever it is?"

Daniel's first inclination was to dismiss the other man's offer in a polite, but firm manner. But, it was Christmas and even buffoons needed kindness. So, he replied, "I do not think your help will be needed, but, of course, there is a chance it might be. If it is, I will let you know, forthwith." He paused, then added, "Thank you, Claymore."

Claymore's eyes brightened behind his thick glasses. "You're welcome, Captain. Now, why don't you take a seat, and I'll get you some coffee or something? This could take a little bit."

Daniel left Claymore's residence/office an hour later. A plan was forming in his head.

XXX

A few days later, Daniel took the kids to the Boy Scouts' lot where they found a fairly nice tree to bring home and decorate. While they were gone, Martha went into the storage closet and retrieved the box of ornaments the family had brought with them from Philadelphia. Carolyn would have contributed some of hers as well, but they had been broken, taken by her late husband's family or simply deteriorated to the point of un-usability over the last century. When the tree selection committee got home, Jonathan and Candy made a beeline for the ornament box, only to frown when it was opened.

"I thought we had more stuff than this," Candy said, looking up at her dad.

"Yeah," Jonathan nodded. "I don't think there's nearly enough here to make the tree really cool looking. The one here..." He gestured to the corner of the living room where the tree stood in its new stand, "...Is way bigger than anything we ever had in Philadelphia."

"And look..." Candy said, pulling out a limp strand of garland. "This looks like in has been ironed."

"At least all the light strands were put away neatly, and still work," Martha interjected from her corner. "See?" Plugging in a strand in the nearest outlet, she held it up, and the lights flashed merrily.

"What is it? May I see?" Carolyn asked, almost clapping her hands. "What is that? How did you do that?"

"She plugged them in," Candy said, puzzled.

Jonathan looked up from his spot of the floor. "Haven't you ever seen Christmas tree lights before, Mrs. Muir?"

Looking as awe-struck as a small child, she shook her head. "Never. How beautiful."

Candy shook her head and looked like she wanted to hug their ghost. "Never? That's terrible!"

"What about the other families who lived here after you died, my dear?" Daniel asked, resolving to visit Ollie Perkins general store for more lights to hang in every window of the cottage, if it would make her happy. "Surely..."

"My bl... That is, my late husband's descendants lived in the same era as I did, Captain. They used candles on the tree. Rather, sparingly, I might add."

"That sounds pretty, but it would also be a fire hazard," Martha pointed out.

Carolyn nodded. "Exactly so. Trees in my day and until about sixty years after I died relied more on lots of decorations, not electricity."

"And later?" Jonathan asked. "What about after Thomas Edison invented electricity? You still didn't know about Christmas lights? My teacher says they started being used on most people's trees some time between 1930 and 1940, after the Great Depression."

Carolyn shook her head again. "Jonathan, until you all moved in, I would make myself scarce and try very hard not to notice the holidays at all. And of course, I scared everyone away from Gull Cottage for years, preceding your arrival."

Candy frowned, and started unwinding the rest of the light strings, testing each one.

"We have lots of lights, Dad, but what about the ornaments? And the garland and icicles?"

Rubbing his beard, the seaman mentally assessed the situation and began planning how to solve it. "Picking up garland and icicles will be no problem; it's just a pity we didn't know we needed to while we were in town. I may have some ornaments among my souvenirs from various ports I've been stationed in around the world. However, I do think it would be fitting if we got a few special, new decorations to commemorate our first Christmas here in Gull Cottage."

"We could string popcorn, and berries to use as a garland," Carolyn said shyly. "And I could show you how to make some ornaments, if you like." She frowned. "But the garland you were showing me is pretty, too — maybe we could fluff it out, or something?"

Daniel picked up the limp strand. "I think this has seen its best days. A few Christmas decorations will hardly break the bank. I'll get some in town tomorrow, if we need it. I rather like your idea — that is, if we get enough popcorn on the tree instead of inside the decorators."

"Aww! Dad!" the children cried together.

"We'll be good," Jonathan added. "If you get three bags of popcorn kernels to pop, it should be enough."

"Enough, at least twice over," Carolyn smiled.

"We need extra, in case we goof," Candy said, with a straight face.

"You know, I think this will be a ball," Martha added. "My mother showed me once how to paint eggs and put them on the tree, and I remember now, my sister Evelyn and I used to use ribbon, and tie bows on the tree, too."

The seaman smiled, nodding in approval. "Perhaps I should have gotten a bigger tree. It sounds as if we'll have more than enough to fill it. This may not be the fanciest tree we have ever had, but I predict it might be the most beautiful one to date."

The children nodded. "Yeah, and you know why that is, Dad?" Jonathan asked.

"I think so, but tell me anyway," Daniel grinned.

Candy and Jonathan jumped up from their places and hugged their father. "Because we're all working on it together!" they both said in unison, gazing first at their father, and then at Carolyn and Martha. "As a family!"

XXX

The Christmas season of 1968 was certainly the most magical one that Carolyn Muir had ever experienced. The rainbow of lights on the tree was just the beginning. After seeing how fascinated his ghost was (he had found her staring at it sometimes when all other lights in the house were off) Daniel decided the entire family, including Carolyn, should drive through the entire town of Schooner Bay and see all the Christmas displays. When they did, he had never seen anyone so enchanted by something so simple.

He did wonder what Martha and Carolyn were up to. It seemed as if they had some secret going on between them, and he did try to tease it out of them, but more to enhance their enjoyment of whatever they were being so closemouthed about, than because he was truly curious. He had his own secrets.

The _Schooner Bay Beacon_ came out on Fridays. On Thursday, the nineteenth, Carolyn's mood was somewhat muted. Watching her, the Captain debated whether or not to say anything. Finally, after the children were tucked in, he asked her to meet him by the tree for a glass of brandy.

"It's not Tuesday," she remarked.

"True, but we wouldn't want to get in a rut, now would we?" he winked.

"I suppose not."

A few minutes later as he handed her a crystal balloon glass half filled with the brandy, Daniel remarked, "Things do seem to be going well at the paper. Young Mark is slightly obnoxious, once in a while, but no worse than some minor officers I've had to work with, in my time."

"Captain, I am happy for you, but I would rather not ruin this evening discussing the Finleys," Carolyn protested gently.

"I suppose you would not want to read my latest _SBB_ article, then?" he said with regret.

"Now, that is something all together different," Carolyn objected. "I love reading your work, even if it is for a third-rate rag. But, the paper won't be out until tomorrow."

"There are advantages to working for said "rag"," he smiled, pulling a folded newspaper from behind a sofa cushion. "I really hoped for front page coverage, but the second page is not a bad placement."

Eagerly, Carolyn unfolded the sheets. He knew the moment she had found the article in question. "It's — it's a retraction of the newspaper story and obituary claiming I killed myself!" She looked up at Daniel, her eyes wide. "I never thought anyone would recant a news story that was a century old! How did you prove it? I just know you didn't go in and say, "Mrs. Muir told me the truth"."

"Claymore's disorganized status proved to be useful. While helping him search for some papers, I ran across not only your obituary, and I DO wish you had told us about your birthday, by the way, I found your household diary that stated the heater needed fixing and that the weather was wretched the night you died. I convinced Mark that it would make a good human interest story and show that the _Beacon _was a paper dedicated to truth, and was big enough to admit its mistakes, no matter how long it took to uncover them after the fact. His father was delighted with the idea, so happy birthday, belatedly, Mrs. Muir."

Emotions played across her face. She looked on the verge of tears.

"Blast it, woman, I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. So very happy. No one has ever cared so much or gone to so much trouble for me, or at least not in a long, long time. I just wish..." Though the room was darkened, the Captain could have sworn he could see a blush on her cheeks.

"What, dear lady?"

"That I could... hug you."

"I wish it as well."

Their eyes met. Carolyn looked away first. "Thank you, Captain. For clearing my name."

"It's the least I could do, considering how behind I am running, celebrating your birthday." He paused for a moment and then cleared his throat, nervously.

Carolyn shrugged gracefully. "I learned, even before my unfortunate encounter with the gas heater, that birthdays near the holidays are often missed. It's no matter, Captain."

"It DOES matter, and I should have asked you before now when it was, especially considering we celebrate Candy and Jonathan's in the same month," he insisted, clearing his throat again.

"Nevertheless, this gift is perfectly timed," Carolyn insisted.

"If you call a month late, perfect," he shrugged. "I know that today, December 19th, is the anniversary of the day you died. I wish the paper came out today, not tomorrow... it would be nicer if the whole town could have read the story on the anniversary of your death. But I will feel better after the paper is distributed and the whole town knows the truth. I'm afraid there was no way I could convince Mark to get the paper out a day early!"

Carolyn smiled. "That is a sweet thought... but what you have done... it's wonderful."

"There is something else. I... I..."

"Yes?" Her wide, green eyes turned to meet his clear, blue gaze.

"Well, I... that is, I don't know about everything in your time — that is manners, and morals and rules of etiquette, but there is something I would like to ask you and I don't want you to think I am being too forward, and you have every right to refuse, or say 'no thank you' if you wish..."

"When have I ever given in on anything? Just say what you mean, please."

"I am, I am... Blast it, I've never been this hesitant about..." He took a deep breath. "Mrs. Muir, howwouldyoufeelaboutcallingmebymygivenname?Daniel,Imean?" The look he gave her was an intense one. "IknowhowverymuchIwouldliketocallyouCarolyn, and..." He paused for breath. "This is the nineteen sixties, after all. It's done all the time when two consenting adults... like each other."

For a long moment, she was silent. Fearing he had insulted her dignity, the Captain sighed. "Forgive me, Madam. I did not mean to overstep propriety."

"You didn't," she said hastily. "I would like that very much... Daniel. I fear that being a spirit does not endow me with speedy hearing, and I had to sort out what you were saying before I could say yes."

"I'm sorry," he smiled, relieved. "Old habit, I'm afraid. Very old. I haven't done it since I got up the nerve to tell my Aunt Violet I had enlisted in the Navy. I only do it when I am very, very nervous. It's been years. I... I just couldn't stop myself..." He grinned shyly, "...Carolyn." He winked then, his more confident self, reappearing. "Carolyn..." He tested her name on his lips. "I like saying that... Carolyn."

"And, I find I rather like saying "Daniel," so we are even."

The seaman tugged on his ear thoughtfully. "Do you think the children will notice? Or will Martha say anything about this? Not that I plan on changing my mind, regardless."

Carolyn smiled and raised her glass. "If I know Martha, she will probably ask why we didn't start doing it at least a month ago. I don't think Martha or the kids miss much."

The Captain nodded. "Aye, but the wait has made it happening now that much the sweeter." He lifted his glass to hers. "Cheers, my dear... Carolyn."

**December 23**

In recent days, Carolyn began to think that perhaps instead of _Jingle Bells _the carol should be called _Jingling Telephone Bells._ It seemed every member of Daniel's late wife's family and the few remaining kinsmen he had called to make sure he and the children were all right, out there in the "boondocks."

As the latest call sounded, the spirit whispered, "Perhaps you should ignore it, Daniel."

Her use of his name brought a smile to the Captain's eyes. The children and Martha HAD noticed the change in how the duo addressed each other, and Martha did tell them both that she thought that they should have started doing so long ago. The children saw it as no big deal; after all, they called their friends by their first names.

"They'll only call back," he shrugged, picking up the receiver grimly. However, a second later, his countenance altered. Instead of the expression of tense patience he adopted as he listened to Ralph and Marjorie or Harriet and Hazel beg him to "come back to civilization," a grin bloomed on his face. "Sean! How marvelous to hear from you. How are you and Molly? Good, good. And have you heard from Charles of late? Is the baby — what was her name? — Grace? — Doing well?"

Carolyn tried not to eavesdrop, but she could not help observe and overhear as the Captain laughed and talked with his friend.

When he hung up, she remarked, "I gather that was a welcome call?"

"Indeed it was," he beamed. "My best friend growing up, Sean O'Casey. We were in the Navy together."

"Would I be too nosy and female if I asked who Molly, Charles, and Grace are?" Carolyn asked, resting her chin on one hand.

"Not at all. Molly is Sean's childhood sweetheart, but they married only about ten years ago. They are Jonathan's godparents, as a matter of fact. Charles and his wife Lynne are Candy's godparents. I think I mentioned them when Vanessa caught us talking and I pretended to be on the phone. She had another baby not long ago."

"That would be Grace?"

"Just so," Daniel nodded. "They all have mentioned they'd like to come up here, perhaps in the spring. I think you'd like the O'Caseys and Dashires. Which brings me to this question; can you change your outfit? It would mean a great deal to the children, and to me, if you came along with us to the Christmas pageant tomorrow night, and if you were in modern clothes, you could be seen. And, if you pull that off, dear lady, I know I could introduce you to my dearest friends."

"And how would you explain me LIVING here?"

"We have a few months to work on that, if you can manage the clothing angle," he winked. "The only drawback would be, ever since Charlie met Lynne, he's felt that EVERYONE should be married. I was safe enough until... recently, but with the obligatory year of mourning past, I am braced for him to try and find the second Mrs. Gregg."

"Well, it's lovely that a man should be so delighted with his state of wedlock that he wants to share the joy," Carolyn smiled. "To be honest, Daniel, I have never even tried to — change clothes, not since becoming a spirit. I never had reason to."

"Give it a thought and do try. We will take you there invisibly, if we must, my dear, but seeing you would be even better."

He started to walk away and get back to his last minute work, but Mrs. Muir called after him, "And how will I be explained to the townsfolk? That is not months away."

"Just change clothes, and we'll worry about the rest later," he insisted, vanishing up the stairs.

"Men," she sighed. Secretly though, she was thrilled that he wanted to be seen with her, for her to meet his friends.

**Christmas Eve**

On Christmas Eve, Carolyn helped Martha in the kitchen, joyfully, as this time she did not have to worry about being relegated to the attic, or other ports unknown because of Vanessa visiting. The smells from the kitchen were heavenly, and to keep the kids out from underfoot, Daniel took them sledding; six inches of snow had fallen overnight.

"So," Martha asked. "Have you figured out a way to attend the pageant and the services with us tonight? Not to pressure you, but we do need time, so you can manifest yourself into different clothing."

"I don't know if I can pull it off," Carolyn smiled sadly. "How can I? Even if we can figure out where I came from, there is still the matter of me not being able to touch — sooner or later, if I am being introduced to someone, they will want to kiss my hand, or..."

"Hand-kissing has gone out of fashion, more's the pity," Martha answered, drying her hands on a towel. "But you're right... someone will want to shake your hand."

"I guess I will just have to appear there invisibly," Carolyn sighed, "But at least I can sit with you, and the children will see me."

"You could practice wearing a modern outfit, at least," Martha insisted.

Carolyn opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She was outnumbered. "I can try, but I will not promise."

"Good enough," Martha assured her.

Pressing her lips together, Carolyn closed her eyes and concentrated. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and held out her hands. "Well?"

"I think you'll want something fancier than my dress," Martha said. She shook her head. "But, even this work dress I'm wearing looks a sight better on you than it does on me. We'll turn on the TV or get out some magazines. You can find something in there that looks right."

An hour later, they were still at the kitchen table, pouring through the _Schooner Bay Beacon, _and a year old LIFE Magazine. Nothing looked even right enough to try, and Carolyn was reluctant to change forms too many times. Until she was used to a more modern look, she explained, shifting was wearing. Together the women had decided on a different hairstyle, however. Carolyn's old-fashioned up-sweep was gone, and in its place was a long pageboy that almost, but not quite, hit her shoulders. As they continued to look through a Sears Wish Book, Carolyn stroked her new hairstyle nervously.

"I feel like I have been scalped," she said. "Women in my day would never be seen in hair this short unless their hair had been cut off during a fever. Do you really think this looks all right?" she queried the housekeeper, nervously.

"It's perfect for you," Martha assured her. She glanced back down at the catalog. "You know, you need to pick out a coat, too."

"Why? I don't get cold," Carolyn answered with a frown.

"Because everyone else will be cold, and it would be very conspicuous if you appeared not to be."

Carolyn nodded. "Of course. Silly of me. I guess I better figure out a way to add gloves to that coat — and I did see one I liked in the Wish Book... Here." She pointed to a page. "This wool. The rust-colored one. It's long, but short to me, when you consider my skirts go to the ground, normally."

Martha snapped her fingers. "Blast, how silly of me? I just remembered, I have another book we can check — my sister sent me the latest _Vogue Sewing Catalogue._ Now those clothes you are supposed to be able to make, but they always have the finished product shown in them. Maybe you can find something in there."

"I used to love to sew," said Carolyn. "I always figured it made up for my lack of talent in the kitchen. Where is it?"

"My bedroom. Side table."

Carolyn popped out and was back a moment later. She set the thick book on the table and began thumbing through it. Toward the end, she pointed to a page and asked, "Is this really what women wear to church now-a-days?"

Martha looked at the Kelly green dress Carolyn was pointing to. It was beautiful, with a scooped neck, but not too low, close-fitting long sleeves, and a full tailored skirt. Its simplicity made it beautiful.

"It is, if you have the waistline for it," Martha sighed. "I don't, but you do. It would look lovely on you — and your hairstyle would go perfectly with it."

Biting her lip, Carolyn willed her hundred-year-old frock to change into the modern one. For a second, she grew pale as the metamorphosis took place, but she steadied. Letting out a sigh, she said, "I hope I can change back."

"Do you want to?" Martha asked. "You look lovely. I can't wait until the Captain sees you. He's going to flip." She frowned. "Did you want it to be a surprise? I mean — him not see how you look until the pageant tonight?"

"Maybe," Carolyn shook her head. "That might be a good idea, but actually I mean, later, when this is over. Cinderella does have to turn in her glass slippers after the party is over, after all."

Martha scratched her chin. "Oh, I don't know. I mean the way you dress is the way you dress. I know you might be a tad more comfortable in what you usually wear, but change is good, too. I could keep bringing home catalogues and you could end up with a nice wardrobe, so to speak, out of it. I mean, the Captain doesn't wear a uniform every day, and I know I would get tired of seeing him in the same thing all the time." She shut her eyes for a moment. "I mean, think about it... visualize him, if you will, every day wearing, say, a gray turtleneck, and a dark blue pair of pants and a jacket. It would look nice, but get kinda old after a while, don't you think?"

Carolyn giggled. "I suppose so."

"I always meant to ask you what your usual dress meant to you that you always appear in it." Martha said. "That is, if I am not being too personal."

Carolyn shrugged. "In my day, we did not have a great many dresses; three or four for everyday wear, and a couple for special days and the Sabbath. This was simply the most recent ordinary dress I wore."

Martha breathed a small sigh of relief. "That's good."

"Why?" the ghost asked, curious.

"On, it's nothing really..." Martha fidgeted with the pencil on the table.

"Oh yes, it is. Now tell me."

"You'll think it's silly."

"No, I won't."

"Oh, you will, but if you do, I understand. It's just that when I first found out you were here, I did a lot of reading about ghosts. I just wanted to be up on things, you know?"

Carolyn nodded. "Yes..."

"Well, it's just one of the things I read is, that ghosts — that is, people who saw ghosts, claimed to see them in the state in which they died. That includes a few things I see no reason to go into now, but it also said, according to this one story, that a ghost appears in what they were buried in. So I have been wondering if that was the case with you." She blushed. "I'm glad it's not true — and by the way, I haven't mentioned my idea to anyone and would rather you didn't."

Carolyn smiled. "It will be our secret. You know I died in my night rail. I'm very glad I haven't had to wander around in that for a century." She let out a good-natured laugh, Martha laughed with her, and then she looked around the kitchen.

"All right, that matter being cleared up, and now that you look like a million dollars, can you concentrate, and dematerialize yourself out of that wonderful outfit and help me get finished here? The pageant starts at seven, and then there's the service of lessons and carols. I've been thinking — it might be a bit too hard to introduce you around too much, but maybe — what if you were invisible for the pageant — the early portion, when you might have to be introduced, then made yourself visible for the actual service, and slipped in to join us? We'll sit near the back, and then you could be with us for the service itself, which might silence a few of the hens. After, or around the beginning of the recessional, you could slip out a back door. If anyone stops you, you can fudge and say you are allergic to evergreen — or maybe you can just slip out before the postlude. We wouldn't be fibbing to anyone that way, and then we could meet you at the car and all come home together."

Carolyn nodded. "You have good ideas, Martha," Carolyn nodded. "I think that might work."

"It will," Martha nodded. "I will be sitting with the Captain, so I can help run interference, if necessary. And you can count on the kids to keep your secret. They'll just be thrilled you are coming. And so will Captain Gregg."

Carolyn blushed, and then shut her eyes and concentrated. A moment later, she was back in her usual form. "Thanks, Martha," she said to the other woman, fondly. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Lucky, you," Martha grinned. "You don't have to."

XXX

When Daniel came downstairs after getting ready for the afternoon's festivities, the rest of the family was waiting for him. As he stepped into the living room, his eyes swept over them, reflexively doing an 'inspection.' Suddenly, his gaze snapped backward to rest on the lovely lady who had joined the children and Martha.

"Carolyn?" he blinked. "Your — Your dress has changed."

Looking pleased, she gave him a sassy smile. "Well, after a hundred years, I thought it was time to put on a new one." She held out the skirt and did a spin. "I take it you approve?"

"Ah, yes. So, this means you will be attending with us visibly?"

"For the service — the second half. The first part, with the pageant and all, invisibly."

"Less chance of having to introduce her," Martha explained. "It could be awkward, until we come up with a good cover story."

"True," the Captain chuckled. "If I see Claymore Muir, I'll have him sit with us, if you will not mind, that is, Carolyn? One extra body to keep the hens at bay."

"I don't mind at all," she said with an enigmatic look. "I think Claymore and I have reached a truce, of sorts."

For a second, the Captain looked surprised, but he recovered. "Excellent. Then, shall we go?"

"Yeah, we don't wanna be late," Jonathan piped up.

XXX

Both the children's pageant and the Christmas service went smoothly. Just as she and Martha had worked out, Carolyn 'joined' the family in the back pew where she sat between the Captain and the children. Thanks to an influx of relatives from out of town visiting local families and a handful of tourists, she was not the only new face, but seated where she was, Carolyn did attract the most attention. She could feel the eyes of the town's gossips as they tried to sneak peeks at her, but with the sanctuary darkened for the candlelight service, their snooping was foiled somewhat. If they were hoping to corner the handsome seaman and his family after services, that intention did not get fulfilled either. The Greggs slipped away right before the benediction.

Jonathan and Candy were still excited when they got home, but their father was firm. It was well past their bedtime, especially considering how early he knew they would be up the next day. After minimal protests, they allowed themselves to be tucked in. Then, Martha excused herself, leaving the Captain and Carolyn to themselves.

"Join me for a Christmas Eve toast?" he invited her. She nodded and soon they were seated by the tree and the fire. "You looked lovely tonight, my dear. As you always do, but seeing you dressed in the attire of my day — I appreciated it," Daniel said. "And, you could not have given the children a better gift than being there for them."

"You all wanting me to be there was a gift," she countered. "I do believe this Christmas may be the best one I have had in many a year."

"I have hopes of it being that for us all," Daniel answered.

For a few minutes, they sat in companionable silence, and then he concluded he should get some sleep. Tomorrow would be an early day, if he knew his children.

**As he climbed under the covers, Daniel thought how much like an ordinary family they had felt tonight, and as he drifted off to sleep, his mind floated...**

**XXX**

**_What seemed like a very few minutes later a sound woke him. The sound of someone... a child... a baby crying._**

_"Candy? Jonathan?" he mumbled, reaching for the lamp on the night stand. "What's wrong?" As he gazed around, bleary-eyed, he felt a movement on the other side of the bed._

**"Don't get up, love, I'll have him fed in no time," came the soft voice of Carolyn Muir.**

**_Daniel blinked again sleepily. "But I want to, darling," he heard himself saying. "I missed entirely too much of this when Candy and Jonathan were babies. I was away much too much. I'll not be making the same mistake again."_**

**_"You'll get plenty of chances to watch with this little guy," she laughed softly, heading for an old-fashioned cradle at the end of their bed. "He's a healthy eater."_**

**_Daniel watched as Carolyn unbuttoned her nightgown and began to nurse the baby. Standing behind where she was now seated in a rocker, he rubbed her neck softly. "I can't tell you how glad I am..." he began softly, "...that Doctor Feeney decided you could come home a day early and be here for Christmas."_**

_She halfway turned her face toward her husband. "It was pure self-preservation on his part; arguing with me would have been far too much of a chore."_

_Daniel grinned. "This is quite true, as I have learned! Besides, if you were stuck at the hospital in Keystone, we just would have moved the party there."_

_Carolyn laughed again. "I don't think Doctor Feeney would have approved of that, either."_

_Daniel peered into the baby's face as he continued to nurse. "I can't believe one small bit of a baby can eat so much."_

_"Martha said Candy and Jonathan did, too," Carolyn said, contentedly. "I'm just glad he's healthy!"_

_The clock on the mantle chimed six times._

_"Good heavens, Candy and Jonathan are sleeping late," Daniel noted with raised brows. "I expected them up by five thirty today."_

_A tentative knock sounded at the door._

_"Ah, you almost spoke too soon, dear man," Carolyn smiled, then proceeded to put herself to rights by throwing a light cover over herself before Jonathan and Candy were allowed to charge into the room._

_"Merry Christmas!" they chorused in loudly soft whispers that took their baby brother into account._

_"I hope we didn't wake him up," Candy added._

_"No," Carolyn whispered. "He'll be through here shortly." She adjusted the receiving blanket over her breast so it didn't cover so much of the baby's head. "I think I'll be ready to burp him in a moment."_

_"I believe I would like to try that this time," Daniel chuckled, "since I am not equipped to handle the other."_

_"The next time he eats, may I?" Candy asked quietly, touching her brother's tiny foot. "You said I would get to."_

_Jonathan scowled. "When do I get a turn?"_

_"What do you say to the feeding after that?" Daniel asked. "As your mother pointed out, there will be many more."_

_"Mother..." Candy sighed. "Boy, I know you and Dad have been married for a year-and-a-half, but I can't tell you how much I still like saying that! Mother, Mommy, Mom... they all sound good."_

_"You love saying it, and I love hearing it!" Carolyn returned. The baby gave a soft mew, indicating he was done for the time being, and Daniel took his son from her arms._

**_After the burping process was taken care of, Daniel continued to stall going downstairs, just to see how patient his two oldest children could be. However, it was soon apparent that they were jumping out of their skins to get down to business, so he finally proposed that they adjourn to the living room. Besides, he could smell, even all the way upstairs, that Martha was already up and had coffee brewing and cinnamon rolls baking._**

**_"Can we go downstairs now, Dad? Mom?" the two older Gregg children asked. "We won't open anything until you get there."_**

**_Daniel nodded. "You won't have to wait long."_**

**_Candy and Jonathan dashed from the room, and Carolyn and Daniel followed a few minutes later, Carolyn carrying the baby, and Daniel bringing up the rear with a small wooden cradle Carolyn and Martha had found at Deke Tuttle's antique shop. Once downstairs, the baby was soon situated in the living room, on the floor near his parent's feet._**

_"Merry Christmas," Martha called as she walked into the room from the kitchen. "Looks like there've been at least a couple of very good kids living here this last year, judging by how busy Santa was." The housekeeper picked up the plate that contained only cookie crumbs. "I guess he deserved all four of my best chocolate chip cookies."_

_"He did work up quite an appetite bringing in everything, I would imagine," Daniel observed, keeping a straight face._

_"He even knew that the baby would be here!" Jonathan exclaimed, pointing to the stocking labeled Sean Charles Gregg._

_"Santa knows everything," Candy said, giving her parent's a knowing wink._

_"Indeed," her father nodded, accepting three stockings from his daughter — one for him, Carolyn and the baby's._

_The stockings were opened quickly and contained the usual variety of Christmas goodies — tangerines, nuts, ribbon candy, pencils for the children, toothbrushes, and a silver rattle for little Sean. Daniel found a new typewriter ribbon in his and Carolyn a pretty pin, shaped like a Christmas tree._

_"Presents now!" The children cried together, and from there, paper, ribbon and cries of joy and the opening of presents all filled the air._

_All the gifts were delightful and received with the love with which they had been given. Later, when Cousin Claymore stopped by, he appreciated his presents as well. And despite the general hubbub of the day, Baby Sean was sweet-tempered throughout. However, his father was less than thrilled with Claymore's insistence on referring to Sean Charles as "Slugger."_

_It seemed like only a few moments passed, and then the day began to draw to a close. Despite the cold air, Mr. and Mrs. Gregg slipped away from the excitement to share a quiet moment on the porch._

_"It has been a wonderful day," Carolyn smiled, leaning against the Captain._

_"That it has been, my dear, and tomorrow should be also. The Dashires and O'Caseys will be here to celebrate Boxing Day. Sometimes, the way Charles hangs onto the traditions of his homeland comes in handy, like now, stretching out the holidays a hair longer." Daniel grinned. "You know, ever since you insisted on naming our son Sean Charles, the pair of them have been insufferably proud."_

_Carolyn turned to face him, a smile on her face. "You know, speaking of customs, we should have hung some mistletoe out here."_

_"Dear lady, I do not need that as an excuse to kiss my wife," he grinned, leaning closer. "It seems too wonderful to be true that I should be so blessed."_

_As their lips met, she murmured, "Perhaps, darling, it is just a dream come true."_

_"Then, I will never wake," he whispered before claiming a second kiss._

XXX

The next thing Daniel knew, he was opening his eyes. Looking around the Master Cabin, he could see no sign of a baby and there was no wife by his side. "It was just a dream," the Captain sighed to himself. "Blast it." For a moment, he lingered in bed, trying to recall the feelings, trying to will that reality to be true. But, he knew it for a foolish fancy and gave up, rising to meet the real Christmas Day head-on.

As soon as they heard his floorboards creak, Candy and Jonathan charged into their dad's room to escort him downstairs for presents.

The gifts were much the same as the ones he had dreamed about giving the children; GI Joes, Marx Noble Knights, Jane West, Breyer horses, and a few of the obligatory clothing presents that kids just grinned and bore. There were some surprises though. When a parcel wrapped in deep blue was placed in the Captain's hands and he could see that Jonathan, Candy, and Martha had similar ones, he realized he did not recognize the paper. He looked at the writing on the tag. _To Daniel from Carolyn. _Automatically, he looked at the ghost.

She smiled and shrugged. "Martha helped me. If you don't like it, feel free to say so."

He resolved in that instant to love it, no matter what it was. He tore away the wrappings to reveal a hand knit scarf.

"Did you make this?"

"Yes, and the slippers for the children," Carolyn said.

"And these fantastic mittens for me," Martha beamed. "When did you manage that, Missy?"

"While you slept," Carolyn replied. She wondered whether or not to mention she had popped a hat over to Claymore's tree. That bald head of his had to get cold.

"Even a dog sweater for Scruffy," Candy grinned. "Cool. Thanks."

"Yeah, thanks," Jonathan said. Granted, clothing items were not high on their list of favorite things, but who else had slippers made by a ghost?

"I am overwhelmed, Carolyn," Daniel told her, his eyes saying more than the words how much he meant it. "I believe you might have missed a present, though."

She looked around, and then spied a package that Daniel had snuck under the tree while Martha kept the specter in the kitchen the day before. "I haven't had a gift in—"

"Far too long," he cut in. "Open it."

Eagerly, she began to obey, but then slowed down to enjoy the experience. She gasped when the contents were revealed. A perfectly beautiful, silk, hand-embroidered shawl rested amid the tissue paper. "It's — lovely!"

"As are you. I hope you can wear it?" Daniel smiled, and then looked uncertain.

"I can try; I can at least look at it." Carolyn concentrated and draped the garment around her shoulders. "I can! Oh, thank you!"

"When I saw it, I knew you had to have it," he said. "Until that moment, I had been completely annoyed with Mark for asking me to go to the Christmas craft fair and take a few snapshots."

"Am I going to have to change my opinion of him?" Carolyn asked rhetorically. Her joy made her more beautiful than he had ever seen the ghost. Once again, Daniel silently blasted the fact that his dream had not been the truth.

"Perhaps," was all he said.

XXX

When at last the house was quiet for the night, Carolyn invited the Captain to take a peek at the stars through her telescope.

"I always wonder if one of them is the Star of Bethlehem," she admitted. "Though I'm sure it was probably a phenomenon that happened, and then was gone."

"It is still fun to wonder," Daniel grinned. Then, his face turned serious. "Carolyn? On that subject, of wondering, I was doing some of that... Can you... create a dream?"

Her brows lifted. "I've never tried." She gave him a pert smile. "Of course, I might have inspired one or two, in my day."

"Now, that is something I did not have to speculate about, my dear," he winked.

"Why do you ask?" Carolyn returned.

"You answered my question, dear lady. I simply had... an unusual one last night, and the thought crossed my mind, briefly, that perhaps... I hoped I had you to thank for it."

"I wouldn't try to influence your mind, Daniel," she said, looking troubled. "I promise."

"That was not what I meant," he shook his head. "It was one of the best dreams I ever had. I would have thanked you for it."

"What was it?"

The Captain hesitated, and then replied, "Now, did no one ever tell you that if you want a dream to come true, you must not tell it?"

She thought about that, and then sighed. "If it does come true, please let me know."

"My dear, you will be the first person TO know."

END CHAPTER FIVE


	6. Chapter 6

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

Mary and Amanda

Chapter Six

Two weeks after Christmas, Martha grimly handed her employer a letter.

"From the expression on your face, I have a feeling this is a bill," Daniel remarked as he took it. Then, he looked down at the envelope. "Blast. It's worse!"

"Is it something that will be horribly expensive?" Carolyn asked, gearing herself up to offer to pawn the Georgian silver, if it was needed to pay for something.

"Worse," the Captain growled. "My late wife's parents." He tore open the missive, his expression growing darker.

"Why do I get the feeling that if Martha and I were not in the room, you'd be saying words that would turn the air blue?"

"Actually, the air would turn purple. Dark purple," Daniel informed her, almost pleasantly. "Confounded, blasted, thrice blasted mail service. We should have gotten this letter a week ago. Instead, Martha, you have..." He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. "...Perhaps six hours, or less, to prepare for the Darligs' to arrive for the weekend."

"I'll help you," Carolyn assured the woman who looked as thrilled with the idea as Daniel did. Which was to say, not at all. Trying to salvage things, she said, "Surely if they are related to Candy and Jonathan, they can't be all bad."

Captain Gregg frowned. "Perhaps not, but finding what is not bad is rather a challenge. They are opinionated, meddlesome, and bossy."

"Hmph. Perhaps they are related to the Muirs," Carolyn commented. "They sound a great deal like Robert's family. No — they sound a great deal like Robert became after we were safely married. How delightful."

"I don't suppose you have powers like the witch on that show the kids like, _Bewitched?" _Martha asked. "I do like it when she wiggles her nose and bam, the whole house sparkles."

"No, but I did say I'd help however I can," Carolyn promised. "It seems rude to invite themselves over, especially when they will need a bed. Shouldn't they at least wait for you to say they may?"

Daniel shrugged. "If they were that considerate, we would not be dreading the visit so much. For that matter, I might not have moved here to get away."

"Then, I'm glad they are as they are," Carolyn stated simply.

He thought about it and smiled. "Yes, put that way, so am I. Well, no Admiral ever gave me much notice on surprise inspections. I suppose we can just consider this to be a very long surprise inspection."

"Pardon my saying so, but let's quit jawing and get to work," Martha cut in.

"Aye-aye," Daniel and Carolyn saluted.

XXX

The division of labor for the rest of the day was easy. Mutually, it was decided that Daniel could handle cleaning both the master bath upstairs and Martha's small one, being used to doing so in the Navy. He also volunteered to police the yard and sweep the walks, the front porch, and verandah area. Carolyn asked if it would be necessary to do the widow's-walk also, but Daniel shook his head. "Ralph is afraid of heights, and I doubt seriously if Marjorie will be interested in the view."

Martha and Carolyn attacked the inside. Quickly, the housekeeper gave the spirit a demonstration on using the vacuum cleaner, and Carolyn was charmed, exclaiming that she would take care of that chore from now on, it was "so much fun." Martha, along with her cleaning, put some bread up to rise, and made a fast run into town to stock the refrigerator with what was needed for the next few days. Ralph liked a good steak, she recalled, and Marjorie loved asparagus... just for openers. Daniel groaned when she presented him the bill upon her return.

"If they eat like this all the time, you will be broke in a week," Carolyn declared.

The day flew by, and at about two, Martha looked at the clock on the mantle under Carolyn's portrait. "Captain Gregg, if you are going to go into town and get the kids and tell them about their grandparents coming, you better take a shower and get going."

He grimaced. "You two and Scruffy could ride in the car with me; we could grab the kids, and make our escape. The mail was late getting to us, after all, and we had a trip planned for the weekend. We'll go see the O'Caseys."

"And put it off for another weekend, when we will just have to do a fast housecleaning again?" Carolyn asked. "No, thank you. Best to get all this unpleasantness, if that's what you are counting on, out of the way NOW, Besides," she frowned, "...I'm ready to make myself scarce for the weekend now. Give me another week, and I may not be willing to."

The seaman turned piercing blue eyes her way. "Are you planning on leaving? Is the spectral sorority having something?"

"Oh, no," she laughed. "That won't be for some time yet. It can be fun, though. But no, actually I was thinking that you wouldn't want me around too much with your former in-laws visiting. Unless...?" She turned her green-eyed gaze to him. "Unless you plan on telling them about me. Though from what you have said, I don't think that would be wise. And if I were around, I might be a bit of a distraction, especially as far as Jonathan and Candy are concerned."

"Belay such thoughts, Madam," he said, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary. "Knowing you are here will help keep me sane." He looked at her for a long moment, and the seaman could have sworn that she was blushing under his gaze. _But that was silly. Spirits couldn't blush, could they? _Finally, he spoke again. "I guess I should go upstairs and shower and whatnot. I need to get into town and pick up the kids. I suppose I ought to act enthused for their sakes. Ralph and Marjorie are their grandparents, and they did live with them for a time after Melanie died. I am sure they will happy to hear they are coming."

"You pulled off Claymore's play last autumn," Martha encouraged. "This is just another role."

Lifting one brow, the Captain paused on the steps. "If I pull this one off, I want a prize that's a blasted sight better than a silly looking little statue of a bald man."

"We'll come up with something," Carolyn winked. "Maybe by then, Martha can show me how to make a gingerbread statue, but why you think you want a statue, I do not understand."

"He is being clever," Martha answered. "I'll explain it to you later."

XXX

Daniel appeared downstairs a half-hour later, dressed in black pants, his favorite boots, what appeared to be a new sweater, and a black jacket. "This blasted turtleneck is choking me," he said. "But Marjorie sent it for Christmas. She'll ask about it. I know her. So I might as well wear it now and get it out of the way."

"I think you look very handsome." Martha volunteered.

"I agree," Carolyn nodded. "You seem as if you wear a turtleneck all the time," she added. "You look magnificent."

That cheered him perceptibly. "Well, perhaps it's not that bad." He looked at the two women. "They may arrive before I return with the children, but I will attempt to be here to greet them in any case."

XXX

Candy and Jonathan were understandably befuddled when they saw their father in the family station wagon waiting for them instead of Martha. Wisely, however, they said nothing until Candy's chums, Adam and Linda Coburn, were dropped off, and somehow they weren't surprised when Daniel stopped at the turnoff from Bay Road to Muir Road. Slowly, he put the car in park, switched the ignition key to the "off" position and turned around to face his children in the back seat.

"Kids... we need to talk."

"What did we do?" Jonathan gulped, his eyes wide.

"Should I take that to mean there's something I need to know about?" Daniel asked.

"No, Dad," they said in unison.

"If you're sure... No, it's not that kind of talk. Your grandparents are due to arrive at any moment to stay through the weekend. Of necessity, Mrs. Muir will be keeping a low profile, and it would be best if you did not mention her around our guests."

Jonathan frowned. "She has to be a secret? Why?"

"Because of the same reason we kept her a secret when Mr. Wilkie was here, Jonathan," Candy started, trying to be patient with her sibling. "Mrs. Muir likes her privacy. She doesn't want everyone to know about her. Besides, I don't think Grandfather Darlig would understand or approve of ghosts."

The boy's brow furrowed again. He could see her point. "Okay, but... blast."

"Exactly," Daniel whispered under his breath.

"It will be nice to see them, I guess," Candy said slowly. "How come we didn't know sooner?"

"The letter was late," Daniel said, wishing it had been one day later so they could have missed it all together.

"Do I have to wear a dress all weekend?" Candy asked.

Daniel thought about doing what would placate the Darligs, then blasted it all and decided that it was his home, his rules and his daughter. "Only if you want to. I suspect your legs would get cold, though. So, just to church, like any other weekend."

His daughter breathed a sigh of relief. "It's not that I never wear a dress, Dad, but Grandmother likes ruffles and lace. I don't. She should be Penelope Harpoonlicker's grandmother."

Daniel had been turning back to the wheel, but paused to look at his daughter and to choke on a laugh. "Penelope WHAT? Candy, really, that is not a kind thing to call the girl."

"She is," Candy insisted. "She's fluffy and frilly and thinks she is the most beautiful thing in school and flirts with the guys and they think she is a sissy and silly, and so do I, and if that's what growing up and being a lady is, I don't want to be one." She scowled for a moment. "Grandma would like her. I know she would. Mrs. Muir is the only lady I want to grow up to be like. Well, her and Martha."

Daniel knew he should scold her further, but his daughter's logic was flawless. "You do pick your... heroines well, dear girl. Just do not refer to Penelope in that manner in public."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm glad you, Mrs. Muir, Jonathan, Martha and Scruffy aren't public."

"Dad?"

"Yes, Jonathan?"

"Do you think Grandmother and Grandfather want to come and live with us?"

The seaman hoped the utter horror that such an idea inspired in him did not show on his face. "I find that highly improbable, son," he replied.

"When are they supposed to get here?" Candy asked.

Daniel shrugged. "Today. They could be there when we get home, or it could be this evening. It depends."

"Can we play if they aren't there when we get home?"

"If you do not have homework, do not get dirty, or get the house dirty after all the hard work Martha, Mrs. Muir, and I put into getting it shipshape in Bristol fashion," Daniel answered.

Both children nodded again.

"Maybe we better play with Mrs. Muir," Candy said. "We won't get to for the next two days. I hope it's not longer."

Daniel nodded. "Excellent solution." The Captain started the car again, and they were home a few minutes later.

XXX

When the little family pulled up at Gull Cottage, it was easy to determine that the Darligs had yet to make an appearance. Unable to decide whether he was relieved or irritated, Daniel announced that he was going to go upstairs and try to write for a bit. Jonathan and Candy ate an after-school snack, and, as Candy suggested in the car, spent the two hours finishing what little homework they had and talking to their resident spirit.

Five-o'clock chimed, and still no Darligs had arrived.

"Maybe they decided not to come, after all?" Carolyn asked.

Daniel shook his head. "No — they're just keeping their own schedule." He pulled the letter out of his pocket. "They just say they will arrive sometime this evening, but definitely today."

"Maybe we could call the airport? See what planes have landed or will land from Philadelphia?" Martha asked. "I hate just sitting here, and my roast is going to turn into something that looks like a giant walnut if we don't get it out of the oven fairly soon."

"I could make a jaunt, invisibly, of course," Carolyn added. "Just from here to town. Check the Inn — maybe they decided to stay there."

"No..." Daniel shook his head, mindful of Candy and Jonathan's presence in the room, and what he said, versus what he wished to say. "I know they will get here eventually." Standing up, he sniffed the air. "Well, I am not waiting any longer for my supper. Martha, you said it was ready?"

"Almost past ready."

"Then I suggest we go ahead and eat, and save something for them. If they want dinner when they arrive, it will be here."

"Are we eating in the good dining room?" Jonathan asked, "That would be cool."

"The table is set, thanks to Martha and Carolyn," Daniel shrugged. "And it looks beautiful. I don't see why not. My dear..." He turned to Carolyn. "I know you can't eat, but could you join us, please? I... we are all going to miss you for the next two days, and I am delighted to be able to have you with us for one more meal."

Carolyn nodded, and glanced at Martha and the children. "I'd love to — just be aware that the minute we know your grandparents have arrived, I will dematerialize."

Candy and Jonathan's blue eyes clouded over.

"I don't want to not see you for two days," Candy sniffed.

"Me either!" Jonathan added. "It's not fair."

"I'll BE here," Carolyn said softly, looking from the children to the Captain. "Just invisibly."

"Then it won't be like when your gazebo was torn down and you left?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, the house felt terrible then," Candy added.

"I'll second that," Martha added. "And I hadn't even met you at that point."

Carolyn shook her head. "No — I promise. Nobody is chasing me away." Again, her eyes turned to the Captain for a moment, but then she tore them away. "But enough of this talk. You all need to sit down to dinner."

"With you, dear lady," Daniel added.

XXX

Although Martha's predictions about the palatability of her dinner had been somewhat dire, the meal she set before the family was up to her usual standards, even if tension made it hard to enjoy.

The time came to clear the dishes, but still the Darligs had not arrived. Clearly, Daniel was struggling not to fume verbally over the lack of consideration they were displaying.

"We could wait dessert for them," Martha suggested. "The ice cream is in the freezer and won't take a moment to dish up." The frozen treat had become a favorite at Gull Cottage since they had realized that Mrs. Muir could, if it was softened a bit, share a bit of it with the family. Martha had jokingly observed it must be nice to live on a diet of ice cream.

"Since the TV is working, let's see what's on it," Daniel said.

They had just managed to get involved in the plot of _Here Come the Brides_ when there was a knock on the door.

"Naturally," the Captain muttered. "Turn on a decent show, and you will get company or a phone call." He sent a look filled with regret toward Carolyn who faded out gently after waving a sad good-bye.

"Carolyn, I wish you could stay..." he said softly, as Martha announced that she would get the door, her tone indicating, to the Captain at least, that the Darligs would expect it, anyway.

"All right..." came the spirit's voice, and in a moment, she was back in the room.

"I was just voicing a wish, my dear..." he started. "But really..."

"Relax, Daniel," she smiled. "How often do I have to remind you that nobody can see or hear me unless I wish it? Right now, that is only you."

"Thank you," he whispered a second before Martha opened the door.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Darlig!" came Martha's voice. "You made it! How nice it is to see you!"

"Nice..." a baritone voice rumbled. "Nice that we got lost three times? This place is on the edge of nowhere! Where are our grandchildren? And where's Daniel?"

With a smile made of gritted teeth, Daniel called out, "We're right here, Ralph. Come in and warm up."

"Let me get your coats," Martha offered as the older couple stepped into the cozy house.

"What's that?" Ralph snapped. A second later, his mind had processed her words and he handed his overcoat to Martha, saying, "Thank you, Elizabeth."

"You're welcome, Mr. Johnson," she retorted without missing a beat.

Ralph stopped in his tracks and faced her. "My name isn't Johnson. It's Darlig."

"Fancy that. My name is Martha, not Elizabeth!" the housekeeper exclaimed. "You just don't hear a coincidence like that one often."

Before Ralph could get wound up, Marjorie said, "Come give us a hug, children."

Obediently, Candy and Jonathan went over to greet their grandparents, followed by Daniel who shook their hands cordially, and then stepped around them so he could get the luggage inside.

No one could enter the living room without seeing the portrait of Carolyn Muir smiling down from its place of honor, not even the self-absorbed Darligs. Seconds ticked by as they met her painted gaze, then with a "hrmph," Ralph turned to glare at Daniel.

"Who is that woman?"

"Carolyn Muir," the Captain said simply.

"And who is that?" Ralph probed further.

"She lived and died here a century ago," Daniel said. "In fact, one of my recent news articles cleared her of the fallacious accusation that she killed herself."

"So, why is her picture up there?"

"As I said, this was her home before it was ours. It came with the house, and seems to fit the decor very well. What's more, I like it," Daniel stated firmly.

"I agree that the mantle is a perfect spot for some art," Marjorie fretted, "But, wouldn't a picture of Melanie be more — ah — more appropriate? I'm sure we have one you could have enlarged and we'll even have it framed. Consider it done as soon as we return home to Philly. I know a wonderful photographer who can get it done quickly."

"That really will not be necessary," the seaman quickly said, before the lady of the house could thunder. "Carolyn — Muir's portrait is staying right where it is."

Martha glance shot between the two strong-willed men. "May I offer you both coffee? And we waited dessert for you."

"Dessert?" Ralph scowled. "No dinner?"

"Ralph, dinner in this house is at six," Daniel started. "It is now seven-thirty. I didn't want the children eating that late, and moreover, I had no wish to dine that late either."

"Good comeback, Daniel," Carolyn commented. "I suppose, to be fair, it is past the dinner hour. Perhaps if you offer them something...?"

"An exception could have..." Ralph started, but Daniel cut him off.

"We waited on ice cream until you arrived," Daniel continued, as if the other man hadn't spoken. "If you like, Martha can fix you a dinner plate now, and you can eat that while we have dessert."

Ralph shrugged. "We had dinner on the plane, such as it was. I suppose Marjorie and I can get by on just dessert."

Marjorie nodded. "And coffee... please."

"Well now, one of them just said something polite..." said Carolyn.

"It will be a few minutes," Martha answered, and retired to the kitchen hurriedly.

"...Amazingly enough," Carolyn continued. "I believe I will go see if Martha needs help, Daniel." So saying, she popped out.

"We brought gifts for the children," Marjorie started, but Ralph looked around the room again, and began speaking, completely ignoring what his wife had started to say.

"So this is the place you decided was better than Philadelphia," he began, and though he didn't say the words, "and nearer us" could be heard between the lines. "I thought you said this place was called Gull Cottage. Seems more like an old barn to me — drafty and dusty, given a chance, too, I bet."

"Now Ralph..." Marjorie began. "It isn't really drafty, and it's not a barn..."

"If I say it is a dusty barn of a place, it is," he continued, wiping his finger over the mantelpiece, assuming that his statement would hold true. When he didn't lift a speck of dust, he harrumphed a bit. "Well, the place IS old! I suppose your landlord is charging you too much rent. You should have let my lawyers handle things."

"That isn't necessary," Daniel snapped. "Besides, I own the house now. I pay rent to no man."

"You actually bought this place?" Ralph fired back. "I was hoping that you would come to your senses..."

"DESSERT IS SERVED!" Martha practically shouted from the doorway.

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. "Candy, Jonathan, come on. Ice cream, and then baths and bed."

"Right, Dad," they both nodded, and made a beeline for the dining room ahead of the adults.

"It's Friday," Ralph started to argue, even as he headed for the same room. "Candace and Johnny can stay up later, so we can visit."

Daniel clenched his fists at his sides. "Candy and Jonathan are on a regular schedule, and I would rather keep it that way. Besides, if they stay up late tonight, they won't be as anxious to get up tomorrow, and we all want to show you the sights in town."

"Schoonerville doesn't seem to have that much to offer, for that, but I suppose we can stay busy for a while," Marjorie said vaguely. "I was counting on buying Candace some new clothes while we are here, and I am sure Jonathan needs a new suit..."

"Schooner BAY has some good stores..." Daniel started, but Carolyn finished his sentence.

"But if you really want to make CANDY happy, culottes or slacks have been her mode of dress, lately. And Jonathan is outgrowing his jeans again."

Daniel smiled and went on. "...But really, I can handle shopping for Candy and Jonathan. They are my children, after all. Now, why don't we eat our dessert, drink our coffee and then I will give you both a tour of the rest of the house and you can get your things settled in the guest bedroom?"

"Guest bedroom?" Ralph queried.

"Yes. It's a little on the small side, but I am sure you will both be happy there for a couple of nights," Daniel continued as they all sat down at the dining room table. "That is, unless you think you would be more comfortable at the Inn..."

"I didn't come all this way to stay in a hotel," Ralph snapped, pouring cream in his coffee.

"Of course not," Carolyn whispered in Daniel's ear again. "That would make things too easy."

Daniel chuckled into his coffee cup.

At the other end of the table, the children were busy figuring out how to get the last of the chocolate out of the Hershey's Chocolate Syrup Can, but finally Candy glanced in the adult's direction.

"We don't have to go shopping, Grandmother. We'd have more fun showing you stuff. Isn't that why you came? To see us, where we are living now and how we are doing?"

"Ah, yes," Ralph answered instead. "And I intend to."

XXX

If it was possible for ice cream to taste dry as sawdust, Daniel's did that evening as he listened to Marjorie's subtle and Ralph's far from subtle comments slurring his home and the way he ran his life while praising Philadelphia and bringing up Melanie's name every other sentence. He could feel his neck stiffening in anger and from constantly having to keep from turning his head to glance at Carolyn. He knew all this had to be infuriating her. It was amazing that there had not been a thunderstorm yet.

Nor was he surprised when the Darligs protested again when the children's bedtime came. They did insist on helping him tuck them in, and the expected thunder did finally rumble.

"Where's that coming from? It was clear as a bell earlier," Ralph frowned, glaring at Daniel as if the weather was his fault.

The seaman shrugged. "I don't control atmospheric conditions, Ralph."

"We have civilized weather in Philadelphia. It's one thing or the other, not all this shifting suddenly."

"Philadelphia is Camelot? Do give my best to King Arthur when you GO HOME," Carolyn quipped for Daniel's ears alone. He choked back a laugh. It was his own fault for playing the soundtrack of that musical for her.

"It's not Daniel's fault, Ralph," Marjorie placated him. "Let's not keep the children waiting."

On that note, the three adults crowded into the nursery to wish the very subdued children good night.

As they finished and turned to leave, Carolyn whispered, "I'll catch up in a minute. I want to do my part on the tucking in."

Imperceptibly, Daniel nodded and hurried his in-laws away so that if Candy or Jonathan spoke, the Darligs would not think living in the boondocks had driven them batty and had them talking to shadows.

By the time the tour of the house concluded and they were back in the living room for drinks, Daniel truly needed one. Not one bit of Gull Cottage met with their approval. For a minute, he considered trying to impress Ralph by bringing out the bottle of hundred-year-old Madeira Charles had sent him for Christmas, but changed his mind. That was for his afternoons with Carolyn. Thinking of those and realizing that the Darligs would be long gone by the next one cheered him considerably. Finally, at eleven, Ralph announced that he and Marjorie were tired, and were going to bed.

"And how does Ralph know that Marjorie is tired?" Carolyn asked invisibly. "Honestly, the more he talks the more I wonder if he IS a great cousin twice removed of someone from Robert's family. Blast!"

"I won't keep you then," Daniel answered stiffly. "I'm a bit tired myself."

"We'll be up at seven, ready for breakfast, and to take the children from you for the day." Ralph went on. "Johnny and I can have a male type day, together, and Marjorie can handle Candy."

"She's not a HORSE!" Carolyn shouted and thunder rolled again. "Daniel..."

"Shh," he hissed in the lowest tone possible. Drawing himself up into his most commanding Captain stance, Daniel responded, "I had thought that all of us, you two, Candy, Jonathan, Martha and I would go tour Schooner Bay tomorrow, see the sights of the town."

"We didn't want to take you from your writing," Ralph said. "Don't you have an assignment or something?"

"No, my calendar is clear for the weekend," the seaman answered.

"You don't have any writing to do? That's not good, Daniel."

"Have they not heard of a day off?" Carolyn asked, throwing her hands in the air.

"I do believe it is customary to take Saturdays and Sundays off," Daniel replied.

Ralph gave his former son-in-law a sharp look over the top of his glasses.

"So you have plenty of assignments? We don't want to keep you from them. Marjorie and I are quite happy to..."

"I wouldn't hear of it," Daniel said briskly. "Schooner Bay is a small town, to be sure, but there is plenty to see and do here, and we have been... looking forward to showing you the sights. I wouldn't have it any other way. The station wagon will hold us all, and we will have a wonderful day, I'm sure." There was finality in his tone that could not be denied.

"Perhaps Daniel is right, Ralph," Marjorie interjected. "And he does know the area. We do not."

Ralph shook his head. "I suppose. There wouldn't be much to learn, direction-wise, living out here in the sticks though. The trick was finding _this_ place."

"We have the same number of directions here that you do in Philadelphia; north, south, east, and west. We also occasionally indulge in north-northeast, north-northwest, south-south-east, and south-southwest, if we want to be fancy. For simpler times, right and left suffice," Daniel remarked thinly.

"Very well," Ralph nodded shortly. "If you insist. Come, Marjorie. Good night, Daniel, goodnight, Mary," he nodded to Martha, who had been sitting quietly in the rocker, knitting. "We will see you all at breakfast. I like my eggs poached."

"I'll make a note of that, Mr. Donaldson," Martha said, archly, but the older couple was out of the room without hearing her.

After they were safely out of ear and eyeshot, Martha rolled her eyes. "I'd forgotten what a pain... that is, how persnickety Mr. Darlig can be," she sighed. "I guess I was hoping maybe time and distance would mellow him a bit."

"Actually, time and distance seems to have had the opposite effect," Daniel countered. "And, Martha, feel free to call them a pain, at least to Carolyn and myself. That is a far nicer word than the ones I have thought of this evening."

"That goes for me, too," Carolyn said, making herself visible.

Martha chortled a bit. "No sense turning the air blue."

"What in heaven's name is that man's problem?" Carolyn said, as she sat down on the opposite end of the couch from where Daniel was seated and regarded him. "He acts like he has a grudge against you, Daniel — and no matter what you do or say, he is never going to be totally happy with it."

"He's used to having his own way," Daniel answered. "He's always been like that. And add to it, I don't think he ever thought I was good enough for Melanie."

Martha shook her head. "There's more to it, Captain, and you know it." Daniel raised a bushy eyebrow at the housekeeper. "Don't give me that look... now, pardon me if I am speaking out of turn, but I have known you for a long time, and the children since they were born, and I have to say this. You know perfectly well that the Darligs — even if they never say it — have always blamed you, at least slightly, for Melanie's accident."

"As if I were not capable of doing that myself without their encouragement," he growled. "If I had a 'normal' career, I would have been at home more often and for whatever reason she felt the need to race over to see me about, might not have existed... Etcetera, etcetera into infinity."

Longing to be able to touch him, Carolyn instinctively reached out, but let her hand drop. "Accidents are just that. _No one_ is at fault. As the Bible says in Proverbs, our lives are measured out by God, not by any person. You did not kill her, and you did not make her drive recklessly."

"They've never seen that," he sighed. "I am glad that you two can."

"Of course," Martha nodded. "Now, what is the plan for tomorrow?"

"The usual," Daniel shrugged. "We can see the museum, the city park, have lunch at Norrie's or the Inn, and look at the little shops down on the pier and the boardwalk. Marjorie likes antiquing. Maybe she will want to spend some time at Deke's place, and there's Priscilla's antique shop that just opened, too. By the time we get in and out of all the little shops and whatnot, I hope most of the day will be gone. If not, there are more sights in Keystone."

"Will there be room in the car for all of us?" Martha asked. "I should go with you, but..."

"But you would love a good excuse not to," Daniel grinned. "Can't say that I blame you for that, but I'd just as soon have you there, if you want to be. You are a part of the family, whether my in-laws think so or not." He rubbed his beard. "All right. Ideally, two people in the front seat. That's you and me. Marjorie and Ralph sit in the back seat with Candy and Jonathan in the way back monkey-seat."

"Ralph might want to sit in the front," Martha maintained.

"He won't," Daniel growled. "If you are in the front seat, Martha, it makes it easier for Carolyn to come along, too — albeit invisibly."

"Me?" Carolyn started, and for a moment Daniel swore that the spirit was blushing.

"You." His eyes turned to hers. "You missed the last outing, and I don't want that to happen again. I'd like you to come — please, Carolyn?"

The spirit lowered her eyes to the floor for a moment, and then raised them to his.

"Very well, Daniel, if you really want me to, I will."

"I want it very much..." he almost whispered, and for a moment, there was silence in the room.

"I think you better, Mrs. Muir..." Martha broke the silence. "You are the only thing that will keep my boss sane tomorrow!"

The three let out a hearty, but quiet laugh, just in case the Darligs could hear them, and shortly after, Daniel and Martha retired for the night while Carolyn kept watch over her little family from the widow's-walk.

XXX

Although the Darligs looked slightly startled and a touch discomforted by the fact that Martha accompanied them on the trip and took the front seat by Daniel, they did not argue about it. While they did not display wild enthusiasm for the museum or any of the other sights in Schooner Bay, they were not too snide, and Marjorie did make Deke's day by purchasing an overpriced lamp.

If Daniel had been hoping to stay up and chat with Carolyn after the children were tucked in, his hopes were dashed. Ralph asked to speak with him before bed, and there was little he could do politely other than agree.

"Now, Daniel, I realize that you are a proud man, but there's pride and there's arrogance," Ralph began. "I know it's important to you to make a go of it on your own, but really, is it working out the way you planned? Hear me out. Even though Melanie's gone you and the children are still part of the family, and you know our house is too big for just Marjorie and me. We'd love to have you and the kids, Martha, too, if having her there would make you more comfortable, move in again. I guarantee Johnny could get in Dexter and Candy's place has been reserved at Meredith's since she was born. You know, she'll be the third generation of Darlig girls to attend."

"She is a Gregg, and will not be attending," the Captain stated flatly.

"Don't be hasty, Daniel," Ralph scolded. "And we've thought about you, too, you know."

"Oh? They've got a charm school lined up for you to go to?" Carolyn asked, materializing into the living room.

Daniel remained silent.

"There's an opening in my insurance firm, all lined up for you to step into," Ralph said. "Since you're the boss' son-in-law, you wouldn't have much to do. You could play with your writing. Just sign a few papers once in a while. Look, Daniel, it's a win-win situation. You and the kids would get a free home, they'd get the best education, exposure to social opportunities that Schoonerville doesn't offer, you'd have a great job, and Marjorie would be a good mother figure. They'd have a female influence in their lives again."

"What's Martha? Halibut?" Carolyn seethed. "Not to mention, what am I?"

"Hush," slipped out before Daniel could stop it.

"No, I will not be hushed. Those are my grandchildren, Daniel Gregg," Ralph glared. "If you don't want the best for them, then I do, and—"

"It's time to say goodnight, Mr. Darlig," Carolyn firmly said, directing her most powerful influence at the man.

Suddenly, he yawned. "I'm so sleepy..."

"Ralph, I do appreciate your concern, and I will think about it, but you look exhausted. Go on up to bed. I'll see you and Marjorie in the morning," Daniel suggested.

As soon as his father-in-law was safely upstairs, the seaman called Scruffy over and took him out for a walk on the beach. Carolyn found him wandering in the fog.

"I hope you didn't let him get to you." Daniel remained quiet. "You were incredibly patient with Mr. Darlig," she continued. "You don't think he's right, do you?"

Finally, Daniel turned to face her. "No, not exactly, but — some of his barbs hit too close to home. I can't blame them for not wanting to lose their grandchildren. Perhaps I was a bit cruel to uproot them so abruptly and move so far away. I must admit, my main goal _was_ to escape the Darligs."

"Moving back there would be saying that you were wrong, and it's not you who is wrong; they are," Carolyn said. "Daniel, you know this is true."

"Sometimes, it is hard to believe."

"Then, I'll believe for us both, until you can," she promised.

"Thank you, dear lady."

XXX

Sunday morning, before the children rose, Ralph did fuss about there being no paper, but there was really nothing to be done about the lack. Nor did they have time for him to grumble much if they wanted to make it to church on time. Marjorie did seem to be visibly pleased to see her grandchildren in their best clothes, especially the fact that Candy wore a dress, even if it was not frilly. She had not endeared herself to the girl the day before when they had run into Penelope Hassenhammer and Marjorie had considered Candy's prickly nemesis a "delightful" child.

After services concluded, Daniel introduced his former in-laws around to the townsfolk. That went well, until Mrs. Post asked where the young woman they saw him with at Christmas was, as did several other people following her. The Captain made vague excuses, acutely aware of Ralph and Marjorie staring holes into him.

By the time they were safely in the car, the Darligs were fairly bursting with questions.

"Young woman?" Ralph demanded. "Are you seeing someone, Daniel? Why are you hiding this from us?"

"I am not hiding anything from you; the subject has not come up," he frowned. "And Carolyn has been — under the weather for a couple of weeks."

"That's right," Martha nodded. "The poor girl was pale as a ghost the last time I saw her."

"But... but when did you start seeing this woman?" Ralph asked.

"Yes," Marjorie echoed quietly, "were you planning on introducing us to her?"

"I... wasn't sure I would be able to," Daniel hedged, wishing that Carolyn were in the car with them. "As I said, she has been ill — a bad bout of that viral thing going around." He hated to tell an untruth, especially in front of his children, but what was there to do? Surely God understood a few mitigating circumstances! Suddenly, he felt a strong sense of identification with poor Rahab.

"Daniel, did you call me?" Carolyn said, materializing in the front seat of the car. He jumped slightly. "Don't worry, nobody can see me. What's the problem?"

Daniel shot her a sideways glare. _Exactly HOW the blazes was he supposed to answer her without seeming to be barmy? _Clearing his throat, the Captain said, "I'm sure that Carolyn will be all right soon. I have missed her greatly during her indisposed state. And, I know that she will regret not being able to meet you two."

"They KNOW about me?!" Carolyn almost shouted. "Daniel..."

"This is a nasty bug," Martha chimed in, surreptitiously crossing her fingers. "I've been taking her chicken soup and making sure she takes her vitamins, and the doctor says she should be well in another week or so."

"I'm sick?" Carolyn asked. "I thought I was dead. Big difference."

"I'm surprised the ladies at church haven't looked in on her," Marjorie commented. "Does this... this..."

"Carolyn," Martha supplied.

"Yes, and does this Carolyn live around here? We saw a cottage a half mile or so up the road..."

"Okay," Carolyn frowned. "Someone at church asked you about me?"

"That's right..." Daniel nodded.

"She lives up the road?" Ralph pressed.

"Oh no," Candy piped up from the back. "That place is vacant."

"Um... She's a bit further away," the Captain hedged, pulling up in front of Gull Cottage.

"You can say THAT again, Captain!" Carolyn quipped.

"How did you meet? WHEN did you meet? What's she like?" Marjorie fired off rapidly, as they all got out of the car.

"You could say that... Claymore introduced us. He's a distant relative of hers, via marriage," Daniel said truthfully. "We met not long after our arrival. And Carolyn is," he smiled, "A quite lovely, old-fashioned girl," he concluded.

"I'm OLD, anyway, in a manner of speaking," Carolyn giggled. "But lovely... Thank you, Daniel. You're sweet."

"Maybe we could go and visit her?" Marjorie offered, as Daniel opened the front door of Gull Cottage. "We could take her some lunch, and visit for a bit."

"I am not sure how much she feels like eating, in her state," Daniel said, truthfully.

"I want to, I just can't," Carolyn answered.

"I'm going to meet this woman," Ralph stated firmly, "If she is to have any influence over my grandchildren..." He stopped and turned to Candy and Jonathan, who were heading upstairs to change out of their Sunday clothes. "Candy? Jonathan? You haven't mentioned this Carolyn person before... tell me, do you like her?"

The siblings exchanged a glance and grinned.

"She's groovy," Jonathan said.

"She's better than groovy," Candy affirmed. "She's really pretty and nice, but not icky about it."

"Icky?" Marjorie repeated blankly.

"Bleah," Candy elaborated. "All prissy and fluffy and acting too good for everyone else. She's a real lady."

"I see..." Marjorie nodded. "Daniel, whether you say so or not, I think we should make an effort to meet this woman." She turned to the housekeeper. "You were planning chicken soup and sandwiches for lunch, correct, Martha?"

Reluctantly, the housekeeper nodded. "Yes, but..."

"Then when we get through with lunch, we will take some of your chicken soup to... Carolyn, is it? We can introduce ourselves..."

"And make an inspection..." Carolyn sighed. "Daniel, I think I better rally the forces."

Daniel gave the ghost a look out of the corner of his eye that clearly said both "WHAT?" and "stop talking to me when I can't answer."

Carolyn held up a hand. "Trust me," was all she said, and then, she vanished.

"We can introduce ourselves..." Marjorie went on. "I'm surprised at you, Daniel! Not saying a word about her yesterday, in her state. We could have stopped by yesterday evening and said hello..."

"She could have spread her germs all over, Marjorie..." Ralph pointed out.

"Uh... right," Daniel nodded, hating the irony of having to AGREE with his father-in-law. "I suppose we can see what happens later... after lunch," he added, wishing he knew what Carolyn was up to. "When is lunch, Martha?"

"About twenty minutes," Martha responded. "I just need to heat up the soup."

While the soup warmed and Daniel wondered how the blazes he was going to handle this situation, Carolyn was busy working on a solution.

XXX

Papers went flying, as she appeared less than a foot in front of Claymore who was catching up on his filing, such as it was.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" he demanded.

"This is an emergency; knocking would waste time," Carolyn replied, waving off his words with a flick of her hand. "I'll help you sort that stuff later. Right now, I need your assistance."

"Mine?" he blinked. "Has the Captain hurt your feelings again? Honestly, Aunt Carolyn, I can't defend your honor, or whatever you call it. He'd beat me to a pulp."

"He hasn't done a thing. You'll be helping him, too," she assured the quivering man. "Would you let me borrow the phone? Please?"

"Er... is it long-distance? I don't think that it could reach the... great beyond."

Carolyn forced herself to be patient. "No, I'm calling Gull Cottage. It's a local number, I believe. Now, shush." She dialed rapidly. When Martha answered, she said, "It's me, Carolyn. Would you put one of Daniel's in-laws on?"

_"You want me to do WHAT??"_ Martha's voice was low.

"Martha, I have a plan, and I think I know what I am doing. Just play along with me."

"Oh... Uh... All right, if you say so..." She gave a mental shrug and covered the receiver with her hand. "Oh, Mrs. Darlig, there's someone here that wants to speak with you."

"With me?" Marjorie fluttered. "But no one knows we are here, except our maid, and I don't see why SHE would be calling..."

"It's for you," Martha nodded. "Or your husband, but you are closer. It's Mrs. ... Miss Mu... that is Williams," she continued, remembering the first day they had seen Carolyn's painting and Claymore mentioning the ghost's maiden name, as well as her married one, for as she started to introduce Carolyn over the phone, she realized saying "Mrs. Muir" would not be prudent, given the fact that the Darligs had already commented on Carolyn's portrait and been told who it was.

"Oh!" Marjorie exclaimed, taking the receiver and speaking into it. "Why, we were just talking about you, Miss Williams."

"Here and I thought my ears burning was just the fever," Carolyn drawled, and then coughed.

"You sound like a seal," Claymore muttered.

Ignoring him, she went on, "Darling Daniel told me that you were paying a visit, and I'm just sick that we can't meet, but I'd feel even worse if I made you two catch this horrible bug." She coughed again and threw in a sneeze.

"Who is that? Is that the woman they were talking about in town?" Ralph demanded, and started to reach for the phone, but much to his surprise, Marjorie moved away from him and spoke into the receiver again. "Oh, we understand! How are you? Better, I hope?"

"Recovering, just messy," Carolyn coughed again.

"Oh, this bug can be just awful," Marjorie agreed, and nodded her head. "Now, just where is it you live, dear?" Marjorie went on. "We'd love to come and meet you."

Carolyn rolled her eyes and covered the receiver. "Blast. They are determined to check me out."

"You better hang up," Claymore whispered. "But in the middle of a sentence. They'll think you got disconnected."

"No..." Carolyn shook her head. "If I do that, they'll be after Daniel to come out and see me for sure." She spoke into the phone again. "As I said..." she continued to croak. "...I would love to meet you, but I am not sure how contagious I am. But I think I can manage a short visit — but I'm afraid I can't get too close. I did so want to meet you! I just can't let you leave town without at least dropping by for a hello. Daniel has told me SO much about you and his experiences in Philadelphia, and so many of them involved you!"

"Why, that's lovely..." Marjorie murmured. "And we want to meet you, too!"

"I'll be there in..." She gave Claymore a fast look.

"Fifteen minutes, by car," Claymore whispered.

"Fifteen or twenty minutes," Carolyn said. "Bye, now." After the woman on the other end had hung up, she turned back to Claymore. "May I borrow your car?" she inquired, as if it were the most normal request in the world.

Claymore just stared at her. "Since when do you drive? They didn't even HAVE cars when you were — y'know, alive! So, how did you learn? No. No way. If you got in a wreck, how would I ever explain it to my insurance company? Oh, my Aunt Spooky just went for a drive, except the last time she was in a vehicle, it whinnied, so she can't be blamed for not being able to handle a horseless carriage?"

"I have it all figured out," she snapped. "I've watched Martha and Daniel often enough."

"There is no way on Earth I am letting you borrow my car," Claymore shook his head. "Why do you need it when you can just poof there, anyway?"

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "If I am pretending to be alive, I can't just pop, Claymore. They'll wonder how I got to Gull Cottage, and Daniel has already said, I am not living in that other little house you own a half a mile from my... Daniel's house. I knew if I said that, they would get a whole different set of ideas. So I have to be able to drive there, giving the illusion I live in town."

"You are NOT driving my car!" the landlord protested. "I'm putting my foot down. Besides, you don't have a license."

Shrugging, Carolyn could see his point. "Then you will have to drive me most of the way to the house and then I will... coast up the last part of the road to Gull Cottage. I know I can do it."

"And what do I do? Hide on the floor while you visit with the Darligs and the Captain? It's January. I'll freeze outside waiting for you. You could be in there..."

Carolyn shook her head. "I'm not going to be there that long, Claymore. I'm supposed to be sick. I'm going to drop in, make my hellos, charm them, and leave. Besides, it isn't that cold out. Bring a blanket."

"And do what? Take a nap in the back seat?"

"No, but you will have to hide there, when I drive up. If they see you, they will wonder who you are and things could get complicated."

"I don't know..."

"Claymore, this is important to me. All I have to do is fake a little humanity — just enough to convince the Darligs that Daniel is getting out in the world and has a life, and the kids have a bit of female influence. Daniel's former in-laws have been trying to convince him to come back to Philadelphia."

"Move? Oh, no-no-no-no..." Claymore moaned. "If Captain Gregg leaves, sure as anything it will get around town that Gull Cottage was really haunted after all... and I just know he'll leave it to me to sell for him and you'll never let me..."

"That's right, Claymore. So let's get cracking."

"Okay — say, we can't go yet."

"Why not?"

"You... You need to fix yourself up," Claymore gestured. "Do you need to use my bathroom?"

Carolyn laughed, "No, Claymore. But thank you for asking." She shut her eyes and concentrated, and a moment later, she was wearing a smart house dress for the period, hose, heels, and her hair was coiffured in the same style as it was for the Christmas service two weeks before.

Claymore gave a low whistle. "You clean up nice," he commented. "You should dress like that more often."

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it. Shall we go?"

"No."

"What do you mean, "no"?"

Claymore breathed a sigh. "You haven't been sick for a long time, have you?"

"No," she scowled. "Just dead."

"Funny. But the Darligs were told you have been sick, right? And still are, kinda?"

"That's correct," she answered, wondering what the man had on his mind.

"You look too good."

"Thank you. I was trying to. I'm supposed to be making an impression."

"No — You show up like that and you will make TOO good an impression. You don't look sick, In fact, if I didn't know better, I would even say that right now you don't look dead."

Carolyn grimaced. "But Claymore, I don't want to look too awful either. I have to look presentable."

"You can," he nodded. "Just not fantastic. Aunt Carolyn, trust me on this. You need to... ruffle yourself a little. Can you make yourself look a little paler? Lose some of that impression of makeup? Maybe smear it a bit? You are supposed to have risen from your sick bed, just to see them, right?"

Carolyn nodded, and altered her face to what Claymore had described.

"Better. Now add just a little puffy shadow to the area under your eyes."

"Claymore..."

"I know what I am talking about. You're talking to the King of Colds here."

"Very well."

As she did as she requested, he added. "Fine. That's good. Now, your nose needs to be a little redder..."

"I won't!" she pouted.

"Fine. Ask my advice and then don't take it, but they might catch on..."

She sighed. "All right, but I am only doing this because we need to get going. I have no idea how well the Captain is holding down the fort."

"Okay, then," Claymore nodded, after Carolyn had done as he had requested, including mussing her hair, just slightly. "Now, there's just one more thing. Your clothes look too neat. You look like a fashion model. Like I said, you are supposed to be just up out of your sick bed. I know you want them to think that you are trying to look good but — I don't suppose you would consider a nice pantsuit? They're a bit casual, but they seem to be catching on because they are comfortable..."

"I ABSOLUTELY will NOT wear trousers!" Carolyn shouted. "I wouldn't know HOW to act in trousers!"

"Sheesh, you act like I want you to wear jeans, or a mini skirt," Claymore grumbled, and then wondered idly what the ghost would look like in either one. "Okay, what about a skirt and blouse, and a heavy sweater? Sweaters are casual, but they keep you warm, and if you are recovering from a bad cold, you would want to stay warm."

"All right, all right," Carolyn did as her 'nephew' requested, and then turned around in a circle. "Now, am I presentable? Or halfway presentable? What I had on before was nicer."

"You'll do," Claymore said, giving her one more look.

"Great. Then let's get going. Now, you'll need to tell me what you are doing when you get behind the wheel and start driving. I have a few fine points on that to figure out yet."

"Well I hope you can figure them out without destroying old Bessie," Claymore sighed.

"Bessie?"

"My car. That's what I call her."

"Bessie and I are going to get along fine, Claymore."

"I hope so."

"Claymore?"

"Yes, Mrs. ... I mean, Carolyn?"

"Thank you."

XXX

Seventeen minutes later, a knock came on the door of Gull Cottage. Both Martha and Daniel jumped to answer it. With a rueful look, the Captain sat back down and let his housekeeper do her job, but he kept a keen eye on the entryway.

As Martha swung open the door, she almost didn't recognize Mrs. Muir in her modern skirt set and sweater. She had added a scarf because Claymore had said it made sense that she'd want to keep her head warm, and besides, since Audrey Hepburn had worn one in Roman Holiday, they had been fashionable. She was also wearing glasses. It had hit her and her "nephew" at about the same time that her portrait was over the mantle and she might look too much like Carolyn Muir, even in twentieth century togs. So, on the theory that spectacles had kept anyone from figuring out who Clark Kent was since the thirties, Carolyn had morphed a pair onto her face. They gave her a slightly studious look.

"Hello, Miss Williams," Martha said loudly. "Are you feeling better?"

Taking the cue, Carolyn coughed once or twice, then cleared her throat and replied, "Oh, yes, Martha. My fever was down to a hundred this morning."

"Well, come right in," Martha said. "I've got some chicken soup in the kitchen for you. I'll go get it."

"Thank you, Martha," Carolyn smiled, and then turned toward the living room. "Daniel! I've missed you and the children so much. No, don't hug me, darling. I won't have you or the children getting sick because of me."

Scruffy ambled over to sniff at her feet.

"And you must be the Darligs. I've heard..." Carolyn paused to sneeze, "...SO much about you both. I'm just... _achoo!_ So sorry that I don't feel better."

"You poor dear," Marjorie said. "Why don't you come in and get warm?"

"No, I don't dare. Dr. Feeney said I'm still contagious, but I just could not allow your visit to pass without meeting you. I'd have never forgiven myself."

"We're awfully glad to see you," Candy said. "We missed you lots, too."

"Yeah. It's just not the same with you not around," Jonathan said helpfully.

"For me, either, dear ones," she said hoarsely.

"Carolyn," Daniel said firmly. "I am relieved to see you up and about, but I won't have you falling over. Come sit by me. I promise I will not catch what you've got."

"Very well, but if you do, I will nurse you," she vowed.

There was a moment of silence, and then Marjorie asked, "You look so familiar. When did we meet you before? I know we have. Or — do you have family in Philadelphia? I know I've heard of the Williamses."

"It is a common name," Carolyn coughed. "But, I might have some relatives there."

"You don't keep in touch?" Ralph asked with a scowl.

"In a large clan, it's hard to keep up with everyone."

"True," he admitted.

Martha came in with a Tupperware container, ostensibly holding soup. "Here, dear. This should fix you right up."

"Thank you, Martha. I really should go while I still feel well enough to drive," Carolyn said, rising shakily. "I will see you all soon," she waved. "It was wonderfully delightful to meet you _darling_ Darligs."

As Martha escorted her out, the woman hissed at the ghost, "Just a little thick, but perfect."

Ralph and Marjorie came back into the living room after half-following Carolyn and Martha out.

"What a delightful person," Ralph remarked. "She certainly seems fond of the children, Daniel."

"We love her, don't we, Jonathan?" Candy nudged her brother.

Jonathan nodded vigorously. "Yeah, lots."

"Carolyn M.. Williams is a lady through and through," Martha chimed in.

"She seems sturdy," Ralph commented, "despite being ill."

"Though it is a paradox, I have found that people can be both delicate and strong," Daniel nodded.

"Yes, yes..." Ralph nodded, and for a moment, Daniel wondered if he was going to add the usual "like Melanie" catchphrase to the end of his sentence, but to the seaman's surprise, the other man did not.

"She's definitely a sweet person," Marjorie cut in. "And to come out here when she was feeling poorly... Ah... if it isn't too rude to ask, are you two seeing each other... exclusively?"

_You are worried about being that NOW? _Daniel snorted to himself. He considered the question and replied, "That could be said to be a fair assessment of the situation, I believe."

"Uh, kids? Why don't you two help me make the turkey sandwiches for lunch..." Martha interjected. "And I'll check on the soup. You must be getting hungry."

Candy and Jonathan picked up on the housekeeper's hint immediately.

"Okay." Candy nodded. "We'll be back in a little bit... Grandfather... Grandmother."

Ralph waited until after the three were out of the room and then turned back to Daniel.

"Soooo..." He started slowly. "Exactly how serious is it between you and Miss Williams?"

Daniel bristled a bit. "We haven't known each other for that long, yet, and are still learning about each other. But I would say as serious as it can be, for now. I suppose. A... relationship is a big move for both of us," he continued.

"Daniel, dear," Marjorie went on, "Don't take this the wrong way, but..."

"I will, if you are going to tell me that Carolyn isn't good enough to be around Candy and Jonathan..." Daniel started. "Carolyn M...Williams is..."

"No, that's not it at all," Ralph interrupted him. "Just the opposite, in fact."

Daniel's brows shot up. "I will take even greater exception to the implication that they are not fit company for her."

Ralph rolled his eyes. "Hardly!"

"Then what exactly, DO you mean?" Daniel asked, his hackles rising further.

Ralph drew a deep breath and looked at his wife. "Marjorie, say something. I'm not explaining this very well."

Marjorie stared at her husband, surprised. "Me... I?"

"Yes, you."

Mrs. Darlig bit her lip, and looked at Daniel like she was trying to figure out how to phrase what was obviously on her mind. "Daniel, dear. Even though you may not believe us, all we have EVER wanted is what is best for you and the children. Maybe we were wrong..."

"We were NOT wrong, we just have different ideas, sometimes," Ralph interrupted her.

"Ralph, I'm talking, you told me I could," Marjorie shot back. "Daniel, all we have ever wanted is the best for our grandchildren. Now, true, we didn't really think the move you made here was a good idea, but..."

"But I think you have proved us wrong... For now, that is," Ralph continued. "The children seem healthy..."

"...And happy," Marjorie went on. "We can see that they love Maine, Martha is the best housekeeper around, and they obviously are quite fond of Miss Williams, already..."

"A blind man can see how much they like her," Ralph said. "And of course she loves them. They are MY grandchildren..."

"OURS, Ralph," Marjorie said firmly.

"Ours. And I can see that Miss Williams is a good influence on them, too. Now look, Daniel, I'm really not an old bear. We do want you to be happy and it is obvious living and working here has made you that."

Daniel began to relax. "I can honestly say that both the children and I... and Martha, too, are very happy here."

Ralph nodded. "You all are settling in fine. Losing dear Melanie was a shock for all of us, and sometimes, it is easier to lash out at people you care about when you lose someone you love. But I can see now that you are able to handle your own life."

"And I have read ALL your articles and stories, Daniel," Marjorie cut in. "You have a fine gift for storytelling, and your informational pieces are excellent also," she added.

"Which is just another reason not to mess with a good thing," Ralph said. "You have an excellent going concern here. I have seen too many companies go bad by executive-types making changes without looking at all the angles. Well, now that we have had a chance to see a few more sides to the picture, I can see that there is no sense in us trying to come in and change things."

"YOU were the one who thought Daniel needed your help, Ralph," Marjorie pointed out, mildly.

"Well, I won't say I was wrong twice in one day," he huffed.

"I think we have ALL been guilty of fretting over things we shouldn't have," Daniel said calmly. "And now that we have this settled: that we are staying in Maine, and you know that your grandchildren — MY children — are in capable hands, what do you say we start over? Martha has chicken soup and turkey sandwiches just about ready, I think. And perhaps this afternoon we can rest and relax and talk..."

"And you could show us some of your other writing?" Marjorie asked. "The unpublished things? I'd love to see them. I'm just sorry Carolyn won't be able to join us. I do hope we will get to know her better some time in the near future."

"I certainly hope so," Daniel smiled. "Sometime."

XXX

The afternoon was a pleasant one, though Carolyn had to stay out of sight, and that evening the Darligs helped Daniel tuck the children in again and then retired immediately after so that they could make an early start for home Monday morning. When the house was quiet, Carolyn appeared to Daniel in the Master Cabin.

"I believe you saved the day, my dear," he smiled. "However, I must inform you that I believe my father-in-law thinks you will be marrying me soon."

"I believe I will wait until YOU ask me," Carolyn joked, "I STILL don't think Ralph needs to tell you what to do, though I will say I believe his tastes have improved." She gave him a crooked smile. "Goodnight, Daniel..." she added, as she started to fade out. "You know there is nothing I wouldn't do for you and the children... always."

There were a hundred things Daniel wanted to say, but he could not find the words.

"Carolyn, I..."

She held up a hand. "There's no need to thank me again, my dear. I know, were the situation reversed, that you would move heaven and earth to help me, even take Claymore to task! So how could I not do the same for you? Now really, it HAS been a long day. You need your rest, and I have a date with a comet."

"Really? May I join you?"

"It won't be visible for another hour, at least."

"I'm sure we can find something to talk about," he answered immediately.

"You're as bad as the kids. You should be in bed, too."

"My rest will come, Carolyn," he answered, his voice taking on a richer, husky tone.

"Very well," she sighed. "You give me that look, and ask me like that, and what can I say?"

"Say... "Yes"," he chuckled.

"Yes, Daniel."

XXX

It seemed as if Daniel had only just closed his eyes when the alarm's buzz told him it was time to rise again. Before he could feel grumpy about that, he remembered that the Darligs would be leaving that day. With that cheering thought in mind, he shut off the alarm and bounded eagerly out of bed.

"Well, aren't WE in a hurry!" Carolyn called from her spot outside on the balcony. "Are you decent yet?"

"Mostly," he answered, grabbing his bathrobe from the foot of the bed and pulling it on.

"Good." A second later she was in the room, a mug of hot coffee in her hand, which she handed to him. "Ralph and Marjorie are packing, and Martha has breakfast on. I heard the Darligs say they want to be on the road by nine." She sighed. "I'm almost sorry now I won't be able to see them again."

Daniel stopped short and turned to stare at her. "Madam? Did that alleged fever actually take hold and you are now suffering from it?"

"No..." she shrugged. "But their attitude DOES seem to have changed a bit, and they did seem to like me, even sniffly and snuffly as I was pretending to be. It would be nice to get to know them better and see what happens from now on."

The Captain shook his head. "I will grant that I am relieved that they like you and seem satisfied with my situation enough to leave, but I would prefer a long break from seeing them."

"You're probably right," she gave him a delicate shrug. "Nobody changes overnight — not Ralph, not Claymore."

"Claymore? What does he have to do with this?"

"Oh, he drove me out here yesterday. I couldn't very well pop and appear ordinary. And the poor fellow had to hide in the car while I was giving my performance." She bowed slightly. "He was an excellent coach, telling me how to look, too." She smiled. "Poor Claymore. I think he has had more than his share of bad colds. He was glad to get Martha's chicken soup that I had to take away."

"DAD!" Candy shouted from the bottom of the stairs, "Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming!" he boomed back.

"I'll see you after breakfast, Daniel," Carolyn winked and then disappeared.

XXX

Breakfast conversation was kept light and approaching pleasant, even after the kids had to leave for school. Not long after that, the Darligs were ready to hit the road. Martha and Daniel did their best not to appear too delighted by this.

"Well, Martha, I must say, if I ate your cooking every day, I'd have to buy a new wardrobe," Ralph complimented her.

"Thank you, Mr. Darlig," she nodded.

"You remembered my name!" he exclaimed, nearly dropping his suitcase in surprise.

"You know, that's the oddest thing, you remembered mine, too," Martha smirked.

Ralph shook his head, not getting the joke. He then turned to Daniel who was helping Marjorie with her bags. "I guess you'll take good care of my grandchildren."

"That is my intention," Daniel agreed, with only slight wariness.

"And we'll be glad to take care of Candace and Johnny while you are on your honeymoon," Marjorie piped up.

"That we will," Ralph nodded, slapping Daniel on the arm briskly. "Just invite us to the wedding. Don't elope again."

"Yes. We are STILL family," Marjorie said. "And family ties are the MOST important."

Daniel pursed his lips. He felt more kinship to Martha, or to the O'Caseys and Dashires, but saw no reason to state that fact at the moment. "When that happy day arrives, you will be informed," he promised simply.

"You tell her to take good care of herself," Marjorie fussed.

"I'll make sure of it," Martha said.

Then, she and the Captain waved until the Darligs' car vanished over the horizon. They turned to each other and let out a sigh of relief. Carolyn manifested beside them.

"Well, that's over with," she remarked.

"For now. They will be back for the wedding," Martha reminded them both.

"We'll elope," the pair chorused, and then laughed.

"I didn't mean to presume," Carolyn flushed, looking down.

"Nor did I," Daniel said. Then, to change subjects, he said, "You should wear modern dresses more often, my dear. Even pretending to be ill, you looked fetching in your outfit yesterday."

"Thank you, Daniel," she smiled.

"Let's continue the mutual appreciation society meeting indoors; I'm freezing," Martha announced.

END CHAPTER SIX


	7. Chapter 7

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

**Mary and Amanda**

Chapter Seven

The next month went by with no outstanding incidents, unless one counted living with a ghost as extraordinary. Candy and Jonathan were fitting into their school well. Though they didn't really 'click' with the popular crowd, or at least not with the leaders of the popular crowd, Penny Hassenhammer and Danny Shoemaker, respectively, they each had a close friend or two. When he wasn't home, Jonathan could be found with Billy Lemoyne. Both boys planned on trying out for the Little League team Claymore and Mr. Peavey headed up in spring. Candy had become fast friends with two kids a grade ahead of her, the Matthews twins, Tristan and Jenny, who were being raised by another single father, a gruff gentleman named Rob.

One evening, while Carolyn was occupied in the alcove making notes on her sky charts, Martha said, "Captain, I wondered if I could have the fourteenth off, or will you need me to mind the children?"

Daniel blinked. "Of course you can. Why would I need you to mind the kids? Especially that evening?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten what day it is!"

It took a second, and then he sighed. "I did, for a few seconds. Valentine's Day, and I assume that Mr. Peavey is going to do something to make a good return on all those cherry pies you have made him?"

"Well..." Martha blushed.

Daniel winked. "Now, why would I object, except that he's not good enough for you?"

"Because — I thought you and Mrs. Muir might... Never mind. Thank you, Captain."

After the woman exited the room to deal with her day's work, he frowned. He would not go back on his permission, but Martha might have a point. She usually did.

**Thursday, February 13**

As Martha went through the living room dusting and picking up the general debris that was generated by the fact that a man and two children lived in the house, she drew up short, seeing a pair of shoes hanging about a foot in front of her face.

_I've told both Jonathan and the Captain that they need to keep their shoes picked up, and if Scruffy chews them, not to come crying to me, _flashed through her mind. Then, she realized that the shoes were up... WAY up!

Slowly, Martha angled her head toward the ceiling where she beheld a man reclining on a pocket of air. With a grin, he waved at her. "You simply _must_ be Martha. No one else could be so delightful while performing such mundane tasks," he declared. Moving himself into a fully upright position, the stranger began to drift downwards until he stood before Martha and executed a sweeping bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. Brady O'Flynn, at your service."

The housekeeper wanted to be miffed about the audacious way he had just hung about, but it was very hard to be annoyed with a fellow who looked like he did.

"Yes, I'm Martha," she agreed.

"Marvelous Martha," he beamed. "I would kiss your hand, but alas, my unfortunate state of being prevents such an indulgence." His smile turned to sorrow. "I will have to settle for presenting you with these." A moment later, he held a dozen yellow roses in one hand and a bag of Hershey kisses in the other.

"Well, I'd rather have a real kiss, but this will do," she flushed. "I take it you are a friend of Mrs. Muir's?"

"As brilliant as you are enchanting," Brady's grin returned. "Yes. When last she graced our dismal Spectral Fraternity Meeting, she could not say enough about her delightful human family. So, at the first opportunity, I made my way to Gull Cottage. Besides, what with it being the season of hearts, flowers, cupids, and so on and so forth, I simply _had_ to call upon her." He winked. "Now, as much as I would love to spend the next century feasting upon the vision of you, I know Carrie would not forgive me if I did not seek her out forthwith. Could you be prevailed upon to direct me her way?"

"Carrie? Oh, Carolyn Muir," Martha blinked. "I never thought of calling her that! I think she's upstairs helping the kids make their dad a Valentine's card while he's in town..." Martha frowned. _What was the Captain doing in town? _Honestly, Brady O'Flynn had completely thrown her for a loop.

"Wonderful! Marvelous! I want to meet them, too!" On that note, he vanished.

Martha shook her head and set the chocolates and flowers aside. She liked the rogue, but she wasn't about to let him be upstairs without her eye on him.

Brady appeared in the nursery and just stood silently, waiting to be noticed.

Suddenly, Candy looked up as she reached for a silver crayon and gasped, "Mrs. Muir, there's a guy standing behind you." Her voice held just a touch of awe mingled with the shock of the sight.

Carolyn looked up; ready to protect the kids, but her defensive posture was instantly metamorphasized into welcome as she popped across the room to hug Brady. "You scoundrel. What on Earth are you doing here?"

"Coming to visit the prettiest ghost in at least America," he informed her. "And to meet the most charming children in the world, if the aforementioned lady's words are to be believed, and, of course, I ALWAYS trust a lady's word." Looking over her shoulder, he introduced himself to the kids, producing a geode for Jonathan and a spray of sweetheart roses for Candy with a wave of one hand. "And for you, milady," he finished, making a mixed bouquet of pink, red, and white roses manifest in Carolyn's hands.

"You always did go overboard," she scolded.

Brady shrugged. "So, I shouldn't give this Captain of yours the Cuban cigar and bottle of port I brought for him? Pity."

"Well, maybe not the cigar, but leave the port," Carolyn reconsidered. She preferred Madeira, but variety was the spice of life, or so it was said.

"Why? Don't you ladies appreciate the smell of a good smoke?" Brady asked rhetorically.

"No, 'cause they stink," Candy provided, wrinkling her nose.

"I'll still give it to him and he can enjoy it while I take you out on the town," the male spirit declared.

"You're going out tonight?" Jonathan asked, "Can we all come with you?"

Carolyn's lips quirked in amusement as her old friend's eyes flashed with a mixture of panic and helplessness.

Martha, having arrived just in time to hear the last part of the conversation, replied, "What? And I've spent hours making your favorite beef stew, Jonathan. I do hate to see that go to waste, but I can't compete with Mr. O'Flynn."

"Oh, dear lady!" the spirit looked affronted. "I could never hope to vie with your loveliness, your wit, your entrancing... Why, if I could write the beauty of your eyes..."

"It would be a short poem, you charmer." Martha winked at him. "But you are welcome to stay here, Mr. O'Flynn. At least for a bit. We don't get to visit with too many spirits..."

"...Except Mrs. Muir," Candy put in.

"Yeah, she's the best!" Jonathan said. "But we've never seen a guy ghost before. Have you been a ghost for a long time, like Mrs. Muir?"

"I'd like to know that, too," Martha added.

"Ah, now, 'tis hard to say. There are days that it seems like I've only been this way a moment, and others, it seems like I've never been anything but a ghost. I suppose if I average the two, I'd come up with about a century and a bit to spare."

"The same as Mrs. Muir!" Candy exclaimed. "Did you know her when she was alive? Did you live here in Maine?"

"Yeah, are you a sea captain?" Jonathan queried, "My Dad's a sea captain — or he was. In the Navy. Now he's a writer."

Brady held up a hand. "One question at a time! And I would love to answer them all, really I would, but surely I am distracting you from your... What are you doing, by the way?"

"We finished our homework and were working on making our dad a Valentine from each of us," Candy volunteered.

"But, we're just 'bout done," Jonathan added. "So we can come downstairs with you and Martha and Mrs. Muir — and you could tell us stories?" he finished hopefully. "You do like to tell stories, don't you?"

"Stories! I have endless stories!" Brady started. "Now you just come downstairs and I'll tell you so many tales, you'll be beggin' me to stop. There was the time I got lost in the Sahara, for instance..." He started to head toward the door.

"In the desert?" Candy asked breathlessly, following him. "What happened?"

"I wandered through the blowing sands for days upon days, with only my poor camel for company. He carried me until he could go no further, then I started carrying him!"

XXX

The children, Martha, and Carolyn listened to Brady O'Flynn's tall tales for the next hour, alternately giggling, oohing and aahing, and/or poised on the edge of their seats. Finally, at a quarter after five, there was a long ring on the doorbell, and a moment later, the sound of the front door opening.

"Hello! Anyone home?" Daniel called out from the hall. "Where is everyone?"

Martha rose to her feet, looking a little abashed at being derelict in her duties, and the kids called out, "Here, Dad."

"We're listening to Mr. O'Flynn's super cool stories! He's been EVERYWHERE," Candy enthused.

"And who is Mr. O'Flynn?" Daniel asked, frowning as he walked into the living room bearing a large shopping bag.

"An old friend," Carolyn replied quietly.

"Friend?" For a moment, he looked bewildered, and then seemed to recover himself. "I... I take it you are a gh...spirit, then, Mr. O'Flynn."

"Oh, just call me Brady, and aye, laddie, that I am! And you would be Danny Gregg? I've heard about you!" The dapper scoundrel gave him a knowing look.

"That's DANIEL," Daniel said swiftly.

"Ah, not one for nicknames?" Brady stroked his moustache.

"Not so much, no," Daniel replied gravely. Granted, his friends Sean and Charles did once in a while refer to him as "Danny," but they had known him longer.

"Danny sounds a little like Daddy, and we call you that, sometimes," Jonathan said, helpfully.

"I think I'm a little too young to be HIS father," Daniel grumbled.

"Oh," the boy shrugged. "Mister O'Flynn was telling us stories."

"I see. So you said," Daniel nodded, and put his package down at the end of the couch on the floor.

"Did you bring us something, Dad?" Candy asked.

"Yes, but for tomorrow," he admitted reluctantly, shooting a glance toward Carolyn, and then back to the visiting ghost. "Now then, Mr. O'Flynn, what... what..."

"What brings me here, telling stories and shaking up your household, boyo? Nothing much, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I would look Carrie up, that's all."

"Not one for full names, are you?" Daniel countered.

"Touché', Mon Capitaine," O'Flynn's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps you'll forgive my barging in since I brought you what, I've been informed, is a smelly cigar and a bottle of port?"

"And why, precisely, would you come to this house bearing gifts?"

"Oh, it just seemed like the thing to do," Brady shrugged. "Came here out of the blue, I did. I felt the need to see Carrie... Carolyn, to you. Haven't seen her since the last Fraternity gathering, you know. I'm afraid I gave dear Martha a turn, though." So saying, he started levitating himself toward the ceiling again, but stopped, and sat Indian fashion at approximately Daniel's eye level. "Martha was not entirely sure what to make of me, I do believe, but I think she has forgiven me, haven't you, love?" He grinned, and righted himself on the ground again.

"Well, I'm at least strongly inclined to do so," she allowed with a faint smile.

"Darlin', you've made my day, then," Brady grinned. "Maybe even my whole year!"

"Don't be mad, Dad," Candy implored. "He's really nice and tells great stories, just about as neat as yours."

Daniel sighed. "Very well. I was just somewhat disconcerted to see a strange man with my — my children and the ladies of my household."

Brady accepted this with a shrug. "I can understand that. " He turned back to the kids. "Now, where was I?"

Jonathan provided the answer, so Daniel listened with growing displeasure as the newcomer regaled HIS family with tales of fantastic exploits. Perhaps under different circumstances, he would have enjoyed the outrageous stories, but at the moment, he sincerely wished Brady were not a ghost so he could be thrashed.

At last, the specter concluded his rambling narrative. "I think I had better take my leave before I wear out my welcome, eh? Candy, Jonathan, Martha, I do hope you enjoy the chocolate half as much as I enjoyed meeting you, and the same goes for the port and cigar and you, Captain, sir. Carolyn, shall we go?"

"Just let me fetch my wrap," she smiled. "I know, I don't really need it, but a girl's got to maintain some standards of normalcy. Besides, I like it."

"Go? You're leaving? After hanging on for a century? But—" Daniel frowned. "We will miss you, Mrs. Muir, and—"

Carolyn suppressed a laugh. "Captain, I'm not leaving for good, just going out for the evening. You won't be rid of me that easily."

"I see. Well, then. We will still miss your company, but er — have a nice time," he recovered.

"Oh, she will. I can promise that," Brady winked.

Mentally shaking her head and sighing_ "Men!"_ Carolyn popped out to fetch her shawl. Upon her return, Daniel watched as Brady helped her on with it. Then she blew a kiss to the children, waved, and linked her arm with Brady's so they could exit.

XXX

Daniel feigned interest in the children's recapitulation of Brady's visit over dinner, then pretended to watch television with them until bedtime. He paid more attention to the clock than to what was playing on the set, a fact that did not go unobserved. When Candy and Jonathan were tucked in bed, Martha asked to speak to her employer.

"I bet you're worrying all for nothing, if you don't mind my saying so, Captain," she quietly informed him.

"Worrying? What on Earth would I worry about?" Daniel forced a smile.

Martha just gave him a look. "Mrs. Muir has a good head on her shoulders. It won't be turned by a charmer, and you're too smart to be foolish enough to waste your energy fretting."

"I am _not_ fretting!"

"Good." With a nod, the housekeeper said good night and headed for her own room.

Daniel was not able to find peace so readily. For three hours, he kept watch, moving between the widow's-walk, his room, the living room, and the kitchen. It almost felt as if he himself was haunting the house! Finally, shortly after midnight, Carolyn reappeared. To his relief, she was alone.

It only took a moment for her to notice him waiting up and the flash of guilt on Daniel's face as he was caught so doing. "I made it home just fine, Father," she teased. "You didn't need to keep watch for me."

"I wasn't. I just happened to be up," he huffed. Then, in grave tones, he went on. "I hope you and Mr. O'Flynn will be very happy, Madam. I don't think he deserves you, but—"

Joy lit Carolyn's face. "Captain, Daniel, it was not a _date_. Brady simply needed a friendly ear and a woman's perspective. He has a — what would you call it — a steady girlfriend, who is a friend of mine, as well, and — I would never steal another woman's man."

Daniel was dumbstruck. Recovering his voice, he asked, "Then, why was he here and hanging all over you if he's attached to this other woman?"

"As I said before, because he needed a friendly ear and a woman's perspective."

Daniel felt as if he was grasping in the dark. "What? What? I don't understand. He pops in here, bringing presents, telling stories... and then he whisks you away... What was I to think? What was he doing here, then?"

"To talk — in private. He's a proud man and didn't want to air his troubles with Vivian in public, much less in front of children. And he was curious about the family I had said so much about at the last meeting. He killed, so to speak, two birds with one stone."

"Killed two birds — you mean he wanted to bend your ear about his love life? Hmm... You know, I never thought about other ghosts until today — let alone ghosts with a love life! And did he... that, is did you and he... Oh, Blast it. You know what I mean, I..."

"Well, I'm not going to go blabbing what he said, and thus affirm womankind's reputation for gossip, but he did get his problem with Viv resolved, and he met my family. Even if others were not a factor, Daniel, honestly, the man doesn't have a sincere bone in his ectoplasm. I'd be an idiot to take up with him." Carolyn threw her arms into the air.

"But — was he here to court you? I mean the way he was smiling at you... And the way you were... I thought you were smiling at him. I don't care whether he has been dead for a hundred years or not, I know what goes on in _any_ man's mind when a beautiful woman smiles at him!" The Captain shot her a challenging glare, daring her to refute it.

"Oh? How interesting. But, no. He was not here to court me. He just smiles a lot and I was smiling in amusement and because it is very pleasant to be treated like a beautiful woman, now and then. But, he treats everything female the same way. Did Martha get this sort of interrogation? He was smiling at her and she was smiling at him. Or Candy?" Her look said, "checkmate," clearly as if she had said the word.

"Uh, no. Not to speak of..."

"Or at all?"

"Carolyn, I..."

"At all, Daniel?"

"No. I didn't talk to Candy about it. And Martha said I was being foolish..." he stopped. "I really didn't mean to say that."

"That you were foolish, or that Martha said you were? I told you that woman has good sense," Mrs. Muir smirked.

"Either. Both. Blast it, woman, sometimes you can muddle my thinking horribly."

"I do, do I? Well thank you. It's nice to know, as a woman, that I can do that." The tension in the air began to deflate in one sense, and in another, grew even more taut.

"So... Brady O'Flynn Will he be coming back here again any time soon?" Daniel asked, too casually.

She lifted her eyebrows. "Are you not convinced you have nothing to worry about?"

"I told you. I wasn't worried. Just curious. And I fear I owe Mr. O'Flynn an apology... sort of."

With her eyes twinkling, Carolyn said, "I may just have to invite him to return soon. Normally, he's the one making apologies. Being apologized to will be a novelty that he'll be so grateful for that our Madeira afternoons might become port afternoons by the time he's showered you with the stuff."

"A good port is fine, and his was very fine indeed, but I prefer Madeira. On the other hand, if you would rather have port, I suppose we could change our ritual..." he faded off.

"I prefer Madeira. Your friend Charles has fine taste in liquor."

"He would agree with you, my dear. I do wish..."

"Wish what?"

"Well, now that I have met one of your...friends, I'd love it if you could meet some of mine. Both Sean and Charles have dropped a few not-so-veiled hints in letters and whatnot that they would love to come here and visit and see the place, and I don't fancy stuffing you in the attic for the duration of their stay. I'd love it if you could meet them — in any form."

Gently, Carolyn gave him a sad smile. "We have had this conversation, and they sound too sharp to be fooled by my playacting that sufficed for the Darligs. I would love to meet them, but I fear it can only happen if they can be trusted with our secret."

"I would trust them, I believe, but you have to trust them too. I understand that." Daniel's expression was filled with regret as well.

"Perhaps in time," Carolyn offered.

Daniel nodded. "I think perhaps I might owe you an apology, while we are on the subject of trust. It seems I failed to completely trust you, even though it's really not my right to trust or not trust you in that area." Daniel scowled. He hated those rare times when he found himself at a loss for words. "I will endeavor to do better in such matters."

Mrs. Muir's smile brightened. "Oh, don't go turning yourself into a pet poodle by the fire, Daniel. I love you the way you are, warts and all." With an impertinent wink, she popped out, calling "Good night," as she did.

"G-good night," Daniel stammered, thunderstruck by her words as they sank into his brain. _SHE LOVES ME?_ Then, his pride reared its head and demanded _Warts? What warts?_

It took him quite a while to get to sleep. Those three words kept echoing in his mind.

XXX

Valentine's Day came and went. Although neither the Captain nor Carolyn mentioned the word "love" in a romantic sense, she did enjoy the surprise he managed to pull off for her benefit — a handcrafted music box of his mother's that he had restored. The children came home with a great many Valentines, but as Candy pointed out, you were required to give EVERYONE in your class, even Penny the Hassler, a card, whether you liked them or not.

The Captain continued working, both at the_ Beacon_ and on his own assignments, though the latter had begun to taper off somewhat. One afternoon, Carolyn came up to the Master Cabin to find him staring blankly at the typewriter, frowning in concentration and rubbing his forehead.

"Is anything wrong, Daniel?" she asked.

There was a significant pause, and then he looked up. "Oh, sorry. I didn't hear you come in, my dear."

She considered that it would be prudent not to point out that since she was a ghost, and did not do anything gauche such as rattling a chain, he would not have. Instead, she repeated the question.

"Oh, nothing. Just this article is being difficult. It's quite given me a headache," he grumbled, glancing up for a second.

"Look at me, Captain," Carolyn demanded in a motherish tone that brooked no refusal.

His head turned back to her. "You look very nice," he said absently.

"That is not why I asked you to look at me!" she exclaimed. "Your eyes look funny, Daniel. Are you sick?"

"Of course not," he snapped. "I just have a headache. It's nothing."

Reflexively, Carolyn reached toward him, and then silently blasted that she could not lay her hand on his brow. With a muttered curse of "Men!" she vanished, rematerializing in the kitchen. "Martha, I think Daniel is ill," she announced. "I can't feel his brow, but I can see it in his eyes."

"Well, it's been going around," Martha sighed. "I'll go check on him." She lifted a brow. "I don't suppose you could use any ghostly influence to make him mind me if he is sick? Men are such babies about this stuff. They'll deny until they turn blue that they are ill, but once you convince them that they are, they turn into infants. Cranky ones at that."

"If he was a lesser man, maybe," Carolyn said. "But, a strong will is hard to influence. Besides, even for his own good, I'd feel like it was a betrayal."

"You have a point, Mrs. Muir," Martha agreed unhappily. "Well, come on and help me beard the lion in his den."

As the two women entered, Daniel looked up from the still blank page with a glare. "Fine thing. Now both of you are ganging up on me."

"Yes, we are, and you are outnumbered," Martha replied briskly. "Now, hush and be still." She placed a hand on his forehead, then his ears. "Yes. You have a fever. So, put aside that work and get into bed. I'll call Doctor Feeney."

"Who is the boss in this house?" he argued.

"You are, sir, but even the President of the United States can be forced to step down while he's indisposed, if his cabinet's vote says he must. I polled all the cabinets in the galley, and they're in agreement," Martha stated blandly. "So, consider yourself stepped down for the duration."

"Tyrants," Daniel muttered. "We never should have let you have the vote."

"Unless you want us to help you undress, you'd better start obeying," Carolyn warned him.

"Do not tempt me, Madam," he growled, then waved a hand. "Out — both of you. I'll change into my pajamas like a good boy." As they walked out, they heard him repeat, "Female tyrants."

Five minutes later, Carolyn popped back upstairs — not inside the room, just in case, but out on the balcony. It didn't take a ghost to figure out that the Captain had changed his mind about obeying them, and once more, he was sitting at his desk, typing furiously. Carolyn was in the room, instantly.

"I thought we told you to get undressed and in bed? You aren't well."

"I'm fine!" he protested. "I have too much work to be sick. I washed my face and had a nice breath of sea air — I'm fine. I don't feel sick at all... not a bit."

In one motion, she pulled the paper from the typewriter and frowned. "Oh really?" She started to read.

"Give that back, this instant!" he exclaimed, snatching at it, but not succeeding. "I do not like for people, except for you, perhaps, to read my work until it's done. So hand it over."

"But you just said I could; that you don't mind when I read them," Carolyn started, moving out of his reach. "Hmm... Now, let's see... Fine, hmm? Then will you kindly explain this sentence? _'Sometimes in the course of human events, events happen when it becomes necessary that events be changed so that other events can happen and when those events do happen the people that changed the events wish that the events never happened to begin with. And so this is the way things are with events leading up to this week's happenings at the...'_ Daniel, this is terrible."

"See? That's why I didn't want you to read it; I KNEW it was terrible. That's what rough drafts are... terrible." He glared. "If I was feeling out of my head, sick, etcetera and so on and so forth, I would think that was brilliant. Since I know it is drivel, I am in my right mind." He looked smug and ended, "Ha."

"But you have never written this badly before," she protested gently. "Now look..." Suddenly, a cup appeared in her hand. "I wanted to bring this up for you. It's..."

He grabbed the cup from her hand, and in a flash; Daniel downed the contents and smiled. "See? Now what did I tell you? My appetite is fine and I feel wonderful. That was the best chicken soup I have ever tasted."

Carolyn suppressed a smile.

"Daniel, that was NOT chicken soup. That was warm salt water for you to gargle with. Now, will you believe me, and get into bed?"

"I thought you had been cooking and was trying to be polite, blast it," he harrumphed. "It was terrible, but I didn't want to insult your efforts."

"Sure. Right. Of course," she nodded, and leaned over his desk and fixed him with a stare. "All right — I'll make a deal with you, Daniel Gregg. If you are so darn healthy, you can get your typewriter away from me with no trouble."

So saying, she picked it up from the desk and held it over her head and just a little out of his reach.

"Blast it, woman," he growled. "You have powers, so it is hardly a fair contest."

"Daniel I am a ghost, not Wonder Woman. The only thing I am doing is holding it. If you can pull it away from me, I will believe you aren't sick."

With a glare, he made an attempt to take it from her, but a coughing fit made him bend over before he could lay a finger on the machine.

"Ha!" she said triumphantly. "What did I tell you? Daniel, you are NOT well and I am going to tell Martha on you!"

"Tell Martha, what?" The housekeeper appeared in the doorway. "Captain Gregg! You aren't in bed yet!? Shame on you! Shame! You are going to make yourself really sick if you keep this up! Now, into the bathroom! Right now!" She pointed toward the doorway. "And if you aren't out of there in three minutes, I am coming in after you! Fine idea! I'm just glad Candy and Jonathan aren't home yet to see what a bad example you are! Now! March!"

"Aye-aye," he sighed, reaching to the pajamas that at had appeared in Carolyn's hand out of nowhere. "But I'll be fine with a few hours' rest — just you wait and see. And there's no need to call a doctor. I don't like doctors. Don't believe in them, and they want too blasted much for a house call."

"Too, late. I already called one," Martha informed him blandly.

"What? Well, call him back and tell him to forget it. I won't talk to him," Daniel growled.

"Tick-tock, Captain. Your time's wasting," Carolyn said. "And he doesn't want to talk to you. In this mood, no one does. He wants to examine you."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," he grumbled, making his way to the door.

"But we are here, so you don't have to," Carolyn answered sweetly. "Now, march!"

XXX

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. When Martha opened the door, expecting to see the weathered figure that was Doctor Feeney, she saw instead a young man standing there, looking around.

"Is it time to collect for the paper again?" she asked. "Captain Gregg usually is good about reminding me to do that. Sorry. I'll go get my purse and be right back."

The young man at the door looked stricken for a moment and then stroked his upper lip, where just the faintest hint of reddish blonde hair was showing.

"Uh, no... How do you do? I'm Doctor Ferguson..." his voice cracked.

"Uh huh," the housekeeper answered, not really registering on what the young man with the little black bag in his hand was saying. "Yes, now let's see... the paper is sixty cents a month, and the Captain likes me to pay for three months at a time — Blast. You'd think that Mark would give a subscription to his "Second in Command on the _Beacon_ Team," as he calls him when he wants something!"

"No! No!" the man protested. "I'm not the newsboy, I'm Doctor Richard Ferguson and I'm here to examine Captain Gregg."

Martha looked him up and down. "You're a DOCTOR?"

"Yes," the young man nodded vigorously. "I'm Doctor Feeney's new assistant."

"And you are a REAL doctor?"

"Uhm, yes. If you would care to call Dr. Feeney's office, I'll wait."

Martha stood to the side of the door to let the young doctor in, staring at him and shaking her head. "I've heard of baby doctors, but I always thought they meant pediatricians..." She motioned toward the stairs. "This way... Doctor."

As they reached the stairway, Carolyn Muir materialized. "Doctor? That fuzzy-cheeked choir boy? We'll see about this!" she said softly.

Unaware that a ghost was trailing after him, muttering aspersions about his qualifications, Doctor Ferguson followed Martha upstairs to the Master Cabin.

As they entered, Daniel called out, "Go away. I do not need a doctor." Then, he focused his gaze on the physician and scowled. "I see you took me at my word and didn't bring one. Thank you."

"Now look here," the young man said, a bit testily. "I AM a doctor and I am here to treat you. I am accredited, and if you don't believe me, you can call Doctor Feeney."

"I might just do that," Carolyn said, materializing in the room at the foot of the bed.

Nervously, Daniel gave her a quick shake of the head.

"How long have you been having these tremors?" Doctor Ferguson asked, at the same time pulling a thermometer from its case and putting it in Daniel's mouth.

Daniel tried to growl an answer, but with a thermometer in his mouth, could not speak. He then reached up and yanked it out. "What tremors? I have never in my life had a tremor and never intend to."

"Tremors," the doctor said firmly. "The way you are shaking your head and all. Put that thermometer back in your mouth, immediately." He watched as Daniel did so, and a few minutes later, pulled it out and peered at it. "Um, hum... high fever... one-hundred and two... general malaise... Have you been dizzy? Hmm... No tic, though. Tell me, have you just returned from a trip to the Western Turkistan? The diseases I have read about there..."

"I have been in Schooner Bay for the last six months and before that, a year in Philadelphia," Daniel snapped. "I tell you, it's nothing!" he roared, and then coughed again.

"Oh, well it couldn't be that then..." the physician sighed, and for a moment, Carolyn swore that he looked disappointed.

"Well what is it, Doctor? A touch of the flu?" Daniel demanded. "If it is, then blast it, give me something so I can get back to work."

"Sorry," Richard Ferguson shook his head again. "It is not that easy, Captain. What you have seems to be a clear case of Virus X"

"Virus WHAT?" Carolyn demanded from her corner, "What in heaven's name is that? Captain, I know what you have..."

"What is Virus X, Doctor?" Martha inquired. "Is it catching?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Half the town is down with it, so don't get too close, and take all sanitary precautions when dealing with him..."

"I am still conscious," Daniel pointed out. "I can hear you talking but I still don't know what I have. What in blazes is Virus X?"

"Well, uh, it's a condition caused by a virus we haven't identified, so it's not so much what it IS, it's what it ISN'T..."

"Double-talk," Carolyn scoffed, coming closer. "He doesn't know what you have. But I do."

"If I can use your phone, I will call in a prescription," said the doctor. "You take it, and get plenty of rest. You'll probably run a fever..."

"He already has one," Martha and Carolyn said together.

"Yes, but it might get a few points higher before it breaks," the young man answered. "So you will have to keep a close eye on him. Possible delirium. The worst should be over in forty-eight hours — if you stay in bed and rest."

"He will," the two women, both visible and not, said in unison.

"And you have a perfect case of the Ague, not Virus X, Y, or Z," Carolyn huffed. "When you grow up, Doctor, you might be a quack. Until then, you're a peep."

Daniel snorted a laugh at the ghost's remark, and then covered it with another cough.

"Try to stay warm and don't exert yourself," The Doctor frowned. "Virus X likes to hang on. You feel better, but not one hundred percent... Saps all the vim and vigor right out of you. I've been treating Deke Tuttle for a month now."

"I'm younger that Mr. Tuttle," Daniel protested.

"Doesn't matter. This stuff hangs around, even when you take your medicine and are well enough to be functional," the young man insisted. "Now then, where's your phone?"

"Downstairs in the hall, Doctor," Martha answered. "I'll show you the way."

"I can't take a blasted month off," Daniel insisted angrily. "I have work to do, the children to take care of."

"Everyone gets sick, sooner or later," the doctor shrugged. "But really, you need to look after yourself. Relax and stay in bed, Captain. You won't be doing yourself any favors if you try to force yourself to be well. I can tell you we have learned that if the patient tries to fight this, it only gets worse."

"The peep is right, Daniel," Carolyn insisted. "The Ague is nothing to take lightly."

In response, he sent a glare from her to the peep, unable to say what he wanted to say because even when sick, he would not resort to ungentlemanly language. Not yet, anyway.

Doctor Ferguson left shortly after, saying that someone from the drug store would run the medicine out to Gull Cottage and his bill — a whopping ten dollars — would come in the mail.

"Ten dollars is outrageous!" Carolyn seethed to Martha, once they were alone in the kitchen and Daniel was upstairs, resting (under duress). "Whatever happened to the Hippocratic Oath? How dare he charge so much?"

Martha sighed. "You _have_ been out of circulation for a long time, haven't you? That's about average for a house call, and what do you mean, Doctor Ferguson is wrong?"

"Exactly that," Carolyn said. "He is wrong. It's not a disease that sounds like something straight out of a cartoon, but the Ague. And if, I realize this is a huge IF, Daniel will just listen and do what I say, he'll be up and around in just a few days. The weakness may linger, but it won't be debilitating."

"The doctor IS sending out medicine..." Martha began. "We have to use it — I mean, he must know something..."

"I want to see this medicine of his," Carolyn said, "and then I will prepare the necessary cure."

"My mother always told me NEVER to say "cure" and "medicine" in the same breath," Martha started. "There is no such thing."

"Your mother never met my grandfather. He had cures," Carolyn said firmly.

"Hmm Well, first things first. The delivery will be out here shortly, and I am going to start some vegetable soup. Why don't you go up there and see if you can keep the Captain quiet? He'll listen to you."

"Of course, Martha. If I remember correctly, the fever will really start hitting him in the next couple of hours. After that?" She shook her head. "Keep the children away and batten down the hatches. We could have a VERY rough couple of days!"

"Should I send the children to spend the night somewhere else?" Martha asked, with a frown.

"I don't think it would help. The doctor said this is all over town, and _that_ I believe. Just keep them away from the room and double up on their vitamins," Carolyn grinned, and then her face turned serious again. "You need to keep yourself well, too, Martha. Anyone can get this."

"What about you?" Martha started, and then smiled at the spirit as she shook her head. "I guess there are some advantages to having a ghost around the house, as if I didn't know that already! Thanks, Mrs. Muir. I wish I could hug you."

"I'll take a rain check," Carolyn said lightly, with only a touch of wistfulness. "I think I will go see how Daniel is doing. Let me know when the medicine — whatever black magic it is — gets here, all right?"

At the housekeeper's nod, she vanished.

"How are you?" she asked as she materialized in the bedroom.

"How do you think?" Daniel huffed. "And, Madam, I cannot have the Ague."

She stared back at him without flinching. "Oh? I suppose you prefer a comic book disease?"

"I prefer no disease at all, but the Ague is properly known as Malaria, and I have not been exposed to that," he bit out tersely.

Rolling her eyes, Carolyn sighed and crossed her arms. "So everyone who got this bug when I was alive called it the wrong thing. We referred to it as Ague or the grippe. Ague just means you'll have chills and fever, and shiver."

"Hrmph."

"It doesn't matter what it's called; it is what it is, and trying to deny you have it will only make your recovery take longer," Carolyn added.

"I cannot take a month off," Daniel reminded her glumly.

"Oh, I doubt you'll have to," she smiled confidently. "What paltry germ could stand up to Daniel Gregg? You're now aware of its existence and will repel the invader from your realm in a flash." She snapped her fingers, forgetting how unladylike it was for a second.

He tried to laugh, but broke off in a cough. Carolyn was at his side instantly with water.

"Try not to talk. Just drink a lot of fluids and rest. And I bet Martha will make you some REAL chicken soup."

The Captain made a face. "I'm not hungry. That doesn't even sound good."

Carolyn shrugged. "Nothing is going to sound good until you're over this, my dear Captain. However, what you like is of secondary concern. Keeping your strength up is the issue. Just consider Martha and me your Admirals."

"You already are," he grumbled.

"And don't you forget it."

XXX

When Claymore showed up with the medicine, he wanted to stand by the gate and just leave it, he was so terrified of catching the dreaded Virus X.

Martha tried to tell him it was just a virus, not the plague, but it had taken all of the hypochondriac coward's courage to make it that far, so, Carolyn retrieved the white pharmacy bag from him and peered at its contents. "Orithro WHAT? Good grief. I can't even pronounce these names. How do you know it's really a cure if you don't know what it is?"

"We just have to trust the doctor," Martha shrugged as she took the bottles and read the dosing instructions.

"The peep," Carolyn said.

Martha thought about it. "You're right. He doesn't look old enough to use anything more sophisticated than a toy doctor's kit, like the one Jonathan had when he was a little younger. He handed out M & M's as prescriptions."

Carolyn grinned. "Will any of these potions help a cough and fever? I can remember what coughing feels like and I know that Daniel's going to be sore as much as he's hacking. It's tempting to just give him what Mama gave me for that — crushed peppermint in whiskey, heated slightly."

"I bet he'd like that," Martha said.

"No, it tasted horrible," Carolyn shuddered. "But I slept for hours and woke up with the cough all gone."

"If none of this helps, we'll have a plan B," Martha said. "I just hope that the children aren't too scared by this. I don't think they were that close to their mother, she wasn't a hugging type, you know? But, still, losing one parent makes you want to cling to the other one more tightly."

"We'll reassure them," Carolyn promised. She shook her head. "They adore their dad. It's going to be hard for them to not see him much, but it's best if I am the only one to go up there. I can't catch this, whether it's Grippe, Virus X, Ague, or the flu."

"Can you get exhausted?" Martha asked. "I never thought of ghosts being tired..."

"I have no idea. I never have before," she shrugged. "If it looks as if I'm pushing my limits, I'll find another ghost to come help." Had the situation not been serious, she would have commented that the threat of Brady returning might be enough to cure the Captain.

"All right," Martha nodded. While they had discussed things, she busied herself preparing a tray. "Well, here's chicken soup, with a ton of veggies, garlic, pepper, and herbs. And chicken, of course. Crackers, tea, and his medicine."

Carolyn took the tray. "I will return."

XXX

She was back ten minutes later and the tray she carried was untouched.

"Well, at least he didn't throw it back in your face," Martha shrugged. "He didn't want to eat?"

"No — and I decided it would do no good to force him," Carolyn answered. "The soup will keep."

"But he did take his medicine, I trust?"

"Yes, like a good boy. But he kept saying he had work to do. Thank goodness it made him dopey right away."

"We'll still need to watch him. I seem to remember that Captain Gregg has a very high medicine tolerance. It will knock him out, but it doesn't keep him out like you and... I mean like it does with me."

"Well, we didn't have a LOT of medicines," Carolyn smiled, "but the ones that made you sleepy always knocked me out effectively and quickly." She wrinkled her nose. "Then, I'd feel foggy for a day or two."

The two women shared a smile, and then Martha looked alarmed. "Did he at least get a cracker down? If he took the medicine on a totally empty stomach..."

"I remembered seeing it should be taken with food, so I argued two saltine crackers down his throat."

"Men!" Martha snorted. "They can be such children at times. All of them. My sister says her husband Harry gets the same way. Not often, but it happens."

Carolyn shook her head. "My late husband... Robert did it, too. He didn't get sick often, but when he did he was a child. A spoiled child, and he usually blamed me for being sick!"

Martha lifted an eyebrow. "Then it is nice you are still willing to tackle Captain Gregg. Trust me, honey — if anyone can get him to behave, you can."

Looking taken aback, it took Carolyn a second to formulate a reply, and then she quipped, "My dear Martha, I fear you have ghosts and angels mixed up!" She shrugged. "I just have more — endurance — than a mortal, so I can harass him longer without needing rest myself."

"I suppose. The Captain is asleep?"

"He was drowsing off when I popped out. But as I said, I don't know how long he will stay that way. I want to keep a close eye on him."

Martha looked at the clock on the wall. "It's almost three. The kids should be getting home soon. Mrs. Jenkins has car pool today. We need to tell them what's going on."

"Yes..." Carolyn nibbled at her thumb. "We need to make sure he isn't disturbed."

"Right, and the kids will have homework. They might need some help. Last night the Captain was working with Candy on her times-tables and Jonathan was studying his spelling words. There will be more of that tonight. How are you at either of those?"

"I can spell very well, most of the time," Carolyn shrugged. "Now, I have heard some talk about — new math? I'm okay with old math, but if two and two aren't still four, I'm in trouble."

"I'm pretty sure it's still the same," Martha grinned.

"Then, I can help her."

"Good," the other woman nodded, and looked around. "Well, I am about caught up here. I guess we wait until the kids get home." She grinned. "I just thought of something. With you around to do the checking, it will save wear and tear on my legs! Thank _goodness_ for popping!"

"Being a ghost has to have a good side," Carolyn smiled back. "And I think there is going to be more of it before there is less, for me!"

XXX

When the kids got in, they noticed immediately that their Dad wasn't there to meet them.

"Has Dad gone into the_ Beacon _office?" Candy asked as she reached down to pet Scruffy.

"No, kids," Martha said. "Your dad's got whatever bug is going around." She decided not to refer to it as 'Virus X.' "And he feels pretty bad and is contagious. He's kind of in quarantine, so you two don't get it."

"I've been keeping a check on him," Carolyn added. "He's managed to drop off to sleep, and that really is the best thing for him, right now."

"How bad is it?" Candy frowned.

"It's just a minor illness, though it probably doesn't FEEL that way," Martha said quickly.

"He'll be fine," Carolyn promised. "Medicine has come a long way since I was alive, but even if he had what he has now back then, he'd be up and around before too long."

"What is it?" Jonathan asked.

"It's more than a cold and less than the flu," Martha compromised. She wasn't sure what the Ague was any more than she was sure what Virus X was, but her version sounded like a fair summation.

"Why don't you two go make your dad a get-well card?" Carolyn suggested. "I know that will make him feel better. Then, I'll help you with your homework."

"And you're both going to take an extra vitamin and drink a big glass of orange juice," Martha added. "Prevention is the best cure."

XXX

Carolyn spent the evening popping in and out of Daniel's room. His fever went down, and then back up as the evening wore on. When he roused a little, he naturally wanted to get out of bed, but it did not take even a little bit of ghostly power to belay that notion. Shortly before it was time to tuck the kids in, Carolyn did what she could to help him clean up, sponging off his face and combing his hair so that he didn't look quite so much a wreck when Martha brought them to the door to wish him goodnight and see their father for themselves. He managed to not cough long enough to thank them for the cards and wave. He even pulled off a small smile.

As Carolyn tucked Candy and Jonathan in, the little girl whispered, "He won't die, will he?"

"Oh, I don't think so," she replied in the same, hushed tone. "He's just miserable right now."

Jonathan had been listening, despite the two females' effort to be quiet. He called out, "Are you sure?"

"Nothing is a hundred percent certain, Jonathan," Carolyn said gently. "But, I'm as confident as I can be."

"We'll say an extra prayer. Maybe that'll help?" Candy asked.

"More than maybe," Carolyn agreed. "If anything will, that will."

XXX

With the youngest Greggs settled in, she returned to their father. He was wide awake. "That wretched medicine is worthless," he announced. "It didn't do anything but make me sleepy."

"You don't look sleepy now," Carolyn said.

He paused to sneeze violently. "Because I've been napping all afternoon. Idiot puppy pretending to be a doctor doesn't know what he's doing."

"Well, he's all we could get," Carolyn sighed.

"I want you to call Sean O'Casey. His wife is a nurse. I bet she knows just as much as that twit. Probably more. Or — Charles' wife is a pharmacist. She would know what to do. I bet he just gave you placebos."

"He didn't GIVE us anything," Carolyn said. "He DID charge."

"That's even worse. Blast it."

"It's time for more medicine," Carolyn tried to say.

"I won't take it. It's no good."

"You already paid for it, so you might as well," she tried.

"I'm not..." He broke off in a cough. "...I'm not Claymore. That won't work on me."

"I'll get Martha up here to hold you down while I pour it down your throat and you'll infect her and then you'll all starve to death while she's laid up and can't cook," Carolyn shot back. "Now, eat a cracker and swallow the blasted stuff." She stomped her foot. "If for no other reason than to prove that wet-behind-the-ears would-be-doctor wrong about you being sick for a month."

Daniel glared, but obeyed her. Before long, he was asleep again.

XXX

Carolyn kept watch throughout the night. Captain Gregg awakened almost every two hours, twice by coughing himself awake, and the third time, about four in the morning, he awoke with a jump. Carolyn was by his side in an instant with a cool cloth for his forehead.

"Here," she said soothingly. "Let me wipe your face..."

"I don't want it, I'm cold," he pouted, even while his face was sweating.

"Try it. It will make you feel better, I promise."

"I'm thirsty."

She vanished, and was back in a moment with a few crackers, a glass of cold water, and more medicine.

"Here. Sit up, eat, and then take this while I turn your pillows."

He obeyed immediately this time and settled back on the bed when he was through.

"What woke you?" she asked gently. "You weren't coughing this time."

"Bad dream," he mumbled.

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

"That would be silly," he coughed, and grabbed for the water glass Carolyn had put on the night stand.

"I don't think so — Candy and Jonathan have awakened in the middle of the night and told me all about their bad dreams."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think if your children can, you can."

He looked troubled. "My dear, you might find that the nightmares of a man who has been to war are far worse than anything an innocent child could dream up."

"Children can have horrific dreams, Daniel. They have for centuries. I think that's why someone wrote that old Scottish prayer: _'From ghoulies and ghosties, and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!' _I may have been dead for a hundred years, but I am not a shrinking violet — and being a ghost, your experiences can't give me nightmares. I think talking about them might do you some good. You hold too much inside yourself. Nobody has to be a hero all the time, dear."

Their eyes locked as the final word faded, and Daniel silently cursed both her ghostly state and his weakness. Reluctantly, he recounted the nightmare in which he underwent the worst moments of every battle he had been in during his career, all in the same encounter. "I was trying, desperately to rescue Candy, Jonathan, you, and — the baby, but I could not get any closer to you all, no matter how I tried."

Carolyn's eyes grew wide. "Baby?"

"A child I once dreamed of, in more pleasant times."

"With... Melanie?"

"No, my dear... with..." he broke off, going into another coughing spasm.

"You've talked enough, now," she whispered, blotting his face once more with a soft rag. "Now you lean back, and I'll tell you a story. Here... lay on your side. Keep sleeping on your back and you will keep coughing. That I DO know."

"What kind of story are you going to tell me?" he queried her, sounding for all the world like a small boy.

"What kind would you like?"

"Tell me about when you were alive."

"That does cover — well, not that many years, really, but enough that I'll ask — which part? When I was a little girl? Older?"

"Older," he said sleepily. "Before you were... When you were single. I suppose you had many beaus that came calling here..." he yawned.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell, but I can say that you are mostly right about that," Carolyn said coyly. "At every cotillion, my dance card was full to overflowing."

"Cotillions? Were there many? What were they like? I would love to see you all dressed up for a dance."

"Well, we did not have television or all the various entertainments of today, so yes, there were quite a few dances. It was a way to pass the time. Everyone came and we danced, either on the lawns that were all lit with paper lanterns or indoors, if the weather necessitated."

"And were they once a month? Did you have different dresses? Different... boyfriends? I keep wondering... I'm thinking of _Gone with the Wind._ If I were in the same room with you, I wouldn't care to wait all evening for one dance."

"Someone left that book here. Some of the renters Claymore's father tried to foist on me made a speedy exit," Carolyn confessed with twinkling eyes. "I wasn't quite as — popular as Miss Scarlett, but still... However, none of my beaus was quite Rhett Butler either. I think, my dear Captain, had you come to the ball, Ashley, the Tarleton twins, and Mr. Hamilton would have all had to just wait while you and I danced."

"I'd dance with you all night, if I had the chance," he sighed. "Only in my dreams, I suppose..." His eyes drooped. "You are very kind to worry about me. I am sorry to be such trouble." Another spasm shook him then, which lasted several minutes. Finally he could speak again. "Carolyn... promise me something."

"Anything, you know that."

"I've never felt like this before. If anything happens to me... If I should..."

"Daniel, that's not going to happen."

"I know, but if I should... you know... help Martha take care of my children... Don't let the Darligs take over."

"You are not going to die, but I promise you, Melanie's parents WILL NOT ruin your children. I don't know how I'll manage that, but you have my word." She contorted her face into a frown to hide the pain the idea of his death caused in her. "Just — be sure you don't do anything foolish like that so I won't have to keep that promise."

"I'll try," he said, sinking back on the pillow. There was silence for a moment, and Carolyn could see his eyelids shut.

"You need to rest," she said softly.

"Will you stay here?"

"Just try to send me away," she smiled. "Now close your eyes, and get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

XXX

Daniel was only distantly aware when the children peeked in to say good-bye before heading off to school the next day. Around midmorning, he became what might be called awake, at least compared to what he had been, but he just could not summon up anything like an appetite and would not even consent to downing a cracker so he could take a pill. Moreover, the Captain was convinced the medicine "the peep" had sent was worthless. No one that looked like they were only old enough to sack groceries or deliver newspapers could possibly be a good physician. To try and appease her boss, Martha did call the Dashires and O'Caseys, but both of the women said that first of all, they were not doctors. Second, it did sound like Dr. Ferguson had done what any other medic would have done. They added that he should just obey and get well so their families could come visit.

The Captain was not at all happy to hear that. When Carolyn went up to see if he needed anything or would consider eating, she automatically asked how he felt.

"Miserable, sore, and blasted weak," he coughed. "And no, not hungry."

With a sigh, Carolyn dematerialized so she could report back to Martha.

"He's just going to get weaker if he won't eat and if he takes that medicine on an empty stomach, he'll just bring it back up and that won't be good for him," Martha grimaced.

"And he's not getting any real sleep," Carolyn added. "He naps, but I can tell he's not resting, if that makes sense."

"It does," Martha assured her. "Blasted man. It would help IF the Captain were more amenable to taking orders instead of giving them." She rolled her neck. "Hard to believe it's only the second day of this. I don't suppose you have any powers that could help?"

"If I did, I'd have done something by now," the ghost said forlornly. "I've just got a few old recipes for cures that worked well when I was alive."

"I'm willing to try anything. You say they did the job in your day, that's good enough for me," Martha nodded.

"For the cough syrup, you need whiskey and some peppermint candy — crushed," Carolyn said. "And for Willow Golden Bark Elixir, we'll need foxglove, willow bark, alfalfa, sage, thyme, parsley and brandy."

Martha's brows lifted. "Well, he won't feel much pain anyway."

"The brandy interacts with the foxglove. Foxglove should never be used without it. It's all heated, so some of the liquor will cook off, too," Carolyn said.

"If you say so, Mrs. Muir."

XXX

An hour later, Carolyn returned to the bedroom to find Daniel shifting around in bed, trying to get comfortable.

"I am sick of being sick," he grumbled. Seeing the two shot glasses in her hands, he asked, "What are those?"

"Something to make you feel better. It's not from the pup." Warily, he took a glass. "Drink it down," she ordered.

Making a terrible face, Daniel tossed it back. "Garr! That's vile."

Carolyn was unapologetic. "Medicine is supposed to be. A doctor's ghost once told me he added ipecac syrup to all medicines, just to make it taste horrid. The more vile the cure, the more effective. Now — the other one."

Grimly, he obeyed. Within minutes, his vision began to blur. "What have you done? I feel so... so... sleepy."

"Just lie back and sleep then," Carolyn said gently, placing the glasses on the bedside table. "It's okay. Just rest."

Unable to do anything other than obey, Daniel fell back against the pillows and into a deep slumber.

XXX

_It seemed that only a moment passed, then his eyes opened and he was downstairs. The Captain looked down at himself and saw that he was in an old-fashioned, Naval dress uniform. Gull Cottage was lit by lanterns, not electric lights, and he could hear music._

_"Don't you look handsome?" Carolyn's voice called._

_He turned and saw her coming down the staircase, wearing a flowing pink ball gown and her hair swept up ornately._

_"You are a vision," he breathed._

_As she reached the bottom of the steps, Carolyn leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Just for that, I am tempted to violate etiquette and dance only with you, my darling, even though as hostess I should dance with every gentleman here," She winked. "Of course, when you do your duty as host and dance with other women, I am not going to be at all happy either."_

_"Etiquette be hanged," he answered._

_She threaded an arm through his. "Come along. Our guests are waiting."_

_Suddenly, he stopped. "Our guests?"_

_"Yes, the entire town, I imagine," Carolyn smiled. "Be sure and compliment Miss Grant. She has a new dress — special for tonight."_

_"They can see you?"_

_"I certainly hope so," she laughed. "Even though more than one woman would probably like it if I were invisible, especially to you. I don't think some of the eligible maidens have forgiven me for marrying you."_

_"I imagine the same could be said of your many beaus with respect to myself," Daniel drawled, deciding to just play along with whatever was happening._

_"Naturally."_

_When they reached the front yard of Gull Cottage, Daniel could hardly believe what he saw. "Everything looks so... beautiful," he started._

_"I DO hope you are beginning with me," Carolyn said softly, taking his hand. "But I don't know why you are so surprised. You know very well Martha and I have been making preparations for two weeks."_

_"Yes, but..." He gestured to the string quartet playing in the corner. "The music, the paper lanterns... the men in formal suits... the women in their long gowns..." Then he was aware of Candy and Jonathan, also dressed in fancy, old-fashioned clothes, 'dancing' after a fashion, in a far corner of the yard, trying to imitate the adults. Jonathan managed a bow and Candy a curtsey before they looked at each other, giggled, broke from their dance and headed toward a table set up on the other side of the area, which he could see contained food and goodies of every kind. "...It's wonderful."_

_"Marvelous party, Captain Gregg," a baritone voice said, and Daniel turned to meet his guest._

_"Claymore?" he gaped. "You're looking — quite well!" Indeed, he'd never seen the lanky, nervous man seem so confident and fit._

_"Why, thank you, Sir," he smiled casually, as if he were used to getting a compliment now and again. "And may I say it is fine to see you hale and hearty after your bout."_

_"Bout?" the seaman asked, puzzled._

_"With the Ague," Claymore elaborated. "I understand you had a serious case."_

_The Captain frowned mentally. **He had? **Once again, he decided just to follow the tide and shrugged. "There's never been a germ that could keep me laid low. Besides, my lovely wife was a ministering angel the entire time."_

_"She did have a little help," another voice said. He turned to find Martha Grant, a vision in an ivory colored satin gown, smiling at him. "You are not always the best of patients," she went on, "but I wouldn't have you any other way."_

_"I would hope not," he answered, trying to keep his tone gruff and failing utterly. "My dear Miss Grant, you look positively enchanting this evening. That gown is sheer you."_

_She winked at him. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your compliments. I must say, it is a wonderful thing to be receiving so many of them this evening."_

_He lifted a bushy eyebrow. "I was not aware I had been overly flowery in my speech, Martha."_

_"Oh, you aren't, Sir."_

_"I see. So Mister Peavey has finally discovered what a jewel you are and will soon be taking you away from us?"_

_"No," she blushed. "Not yet. But your friends over there..." She nodded toward an area near the monkey-puzzle tree, "Mister Dashire and Mister O'Casey, have been more than kind with their words."_

_The Captain looked in the direction she had indicated, his eyes lighting. "They did make it, and all the way from Philadelphia and Massachusetts! How marvelous!"_

_"They said they would, darling," Carolyn answered._

_"I've met them also," Claymore Muir nodded. "We were talking land development a bit ago. O'Casey is thinking about perhaps buying one of my properties."_

_"That lovely house you own by the lake?" Carolyn asked. "T'would be lovely to see them here... even if it is only during the summer months."_

_"That is the one," Claymore answered, then looked around. "You'll have to excuse me. I have Elizabeth Coburn for the next dance, and I don't want to keep her waiting. Good evening to you, and thank you once again for insisting I come. As usual with your gatherings, I am having a marvelous time."_

_A moment later and he was gone._

_"That's my cue," Martha smiled. "Edward is over by the refreshment table, I should see if I could get him away from there before he eats you out of house and home."_

_"He's enjoying himself," Daniel said, with a look and a grin._

_"Still, it's one of my duties," she smiled broadly, and then she, too, had left them._

_"It looks as if everyone is having a fantastic time," Daniel mused._

_"Of course they are," Carolyn smiled. "How could they have anything else at one of your parties?"_

_**"Our **parties, my dear," he answered, reaching for her hand. "Now, about that waltz?"_

_"Father!" cried Jonathan, running up to him. "Candace is being bossy again!"_

"_I was not!" his daughter insisted, joining her brother. "I just said I think ten cookies is enough between dances, and we are supposed to be dancing because that is what this is. Right, Papa?"_

_"You probably also need to tell your Uncle Charles that ten cookies is plenty, while you're at it, dear girl. Your sister is right, Jonathan. But, you two might want to see if any of the other children want to dance. You aren't too young to assume a few hosting duties."_

_His son made a face. "Who wants to dance when there are good things to eat? Besides, the only girl around at the moment besides Candace is Penelope Hassenhammer, and I won't, Father. I can't dance with her. She's all..." He waved a hand. "Fuss and feathers. Candy wants me to dance with Penelope so she can dance with the new boy in town." He pointed to a blonde boy standing a few dozen feet away, talking to a sallow-faced girl around his sister's age._

_"I do NOT!" Candace cried. "Papa, I don't! Besides, Jonathan Gregg, it's rude to point!"_

_"You may have to, son, to be a good host," Daniel commiserated. "However, since you are younger than Miss Penelope, I doubt she will accept your invitation."_

_"All right," the boy shrugged. "But if I ask her, and she says no, may I have more cookies?"_

_"Two more, Jonathan," Carolyn said, smiling. "You need some nourishing food, also."_

_"Yes, Mama," he answered dutifully. "Come on, Candace. Let's get this over with."_

"_Thank you, Jonathan," his sister answered. Excusing themselves, they started toward the other side of the yard._

_"Well I don't know about my son, but I have no compunctions about dancing," Daniel began._

_"Oh, really?" Carolyn looked up at him. "And who might your first dance be with this evening? Abigail Johnson? Kathleen Watkins? Prudence Jones?"_

_"I will dance my first dance of the evening with no one but my beautiful wife," he said softly._

_"She's a very fortunate lady," Carolyn smirked._

_"Not nearly as fortunate as her husband is," Daniel answered._

_The string quartet began to play a slow, melodic waltz as Daniel led her to the floor, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to be holding Carolyn in his arms. Somehow, words weren't necessary as the moved about the floor with the other couples._

_"I feel like I could dance with you forever," Daniel sighed, leaning into her as the music reached a crescendo._

_"That makes two of us, but our guests might object," she teased._

_"Hang the guests," he growled and began to lean close enough to steal a kiss._

_"Why, Daniel Gregg..." she whispered as she looked up into his brilliant blue eyes. They had come to a halt in the center of the dance area. "Are you planning to kiss me? Right here?" She lifted her face to his._

_"Yes," he whispered, inching his face toward hers. "I feel like I have been waiting a lifetime for this moment..." _

_The music faded into a far away melody and the world narrowed until only the two of them existed. Then, someone gasped so loudly that Daniel and Carolyn reflexively jerked back and turned to see what was wrong._

_A tall, blonde man was moving through the crowd, headed toward Carolyn. Daniel glanced at her shocked face and felt his heart sink as she whispered, "Robert?"_

_"NO!" the Captain shouted._

XXX

"Daniel? Daniel, what is wrong?" Carolyn asked, appearing immediately at his bedside.

Daniel looked around. "Wh — Carolyn? It's — daylight."

Lifting one brow, she nodded. "Yes. You fell asleep after taking Grandfather's remedies." She studied his face. "Your eyes look better, stronger. I think your fever might have broken." She hesitated. "I'll get a thermometer from Martha. It sounds like you had a terrible nightmare."

He frowned. "It was — at the end, but until that moment, no. It was the second-best dream I've ever had."

"Well, it's been a long time since I dreamed, but when they turn into bad ones, that's the time to wake up," Carolyn nodded and then vanished. A moment later, she was back, insisting that he open his mouth so she could check his temperature. After three minutes, she took it out. "Ninety-eight point..." She frowned. "I can't tell if it's a six or seven, but good enough. I think you might be on the mend." Her expression transformed from bemusement to happiness. "I KNEW my cure would work better than anything that silly little boy could prescribe! You do feel better?"

Daniel thought about it, then nodded. "Yes, yes I do." He paused and added, "Carolyn, you dance beautifully."

The spirit looked puzzled. "Yes, I do, but how did you know?"

"I have my ways," he smiled enigmatically.

Their eyes met for an eternal moment, then Carolyn modestly dropped her gaze. "I don't think you're ready to dance, yet, my dear Captain. I — I'd better go give Martha the good news."

"And tell her I'm starved," he called out just as Carolyn vanished.

END CHAPTER SEVEN


	8. Chapter 8

_**The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale. **_

_**We do however own Jenny and Tris Matthews, Rob Matthews, Billy Lemoyne, Sean and Molly O'Casey and Charles, Lynne and Grace Dashire, and the milkman.**_

**The Ghost and Captain Gregg**

**Mary and Amanda**

Chapter Eight

In the days to come, the Captain began to recover rapidly. Even the "peep" had to admit that it seemed to be a miracle how fast he had shaken the Virus X. Though Daniel was still weak for longer than he would have liked, within days he was able to get around the house again and was ready to get back to work.

"Mail call!" Martha announced.

Eagerly, Daniel looked up from the letter he was writing. "Blast. I wanted to get this in today's post."

"What is it?" Carolyn asked, materializing on the edge of the desk.

"An attempt to get a new fire engine for Schooner Bay. I have a few connections, and Old Seventeen might be wonderfully nostalgic, but is a practical nightmare," Daniel replied. "It could be parked in front of that new museum as an attraction, or put in the park for the children to play on, but I hate to think of it being needed for its intended use."

"When you get it done, I can slip it into the outgoing mail at the post office," Carolyn grinned. "There are, as I have said, advantages to being a ghost."

"And drawbacks," the Captain muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, my dear. Thank you. I should be done shortly. Anything interesting and good in the mail, Martha?"

The housekeeper thumbed through the envelopes. "A sale at the General Store, a bill, and a letter from the twins."

"Anything else?" Daniel asked casually.

"Nope."

He sighed. "No point in delaying. Let's see what Old Snoopy I and II have to say."

Martha handed him the envelope.

"Old Snoopy?" Carolyn asked.

"Harriet and Hazel, Melanie's twin cousins," Daniel replied, glancing up from scanning the missive. "Blast. They heard I was ill."

"Are they coming?" the two women asked in dread.

"No. They just say — _Daniel, dear, really, this should tell you how bad a decision this move was. Being out there has damaged your health and you are all those children have. Really. You don't need to be St. John in exile. Come home to the real world."_

"Last time I checked, Schooner Bay wasn't Avalon, Tir na Og, or Shangri - la," Carolyn scowled.

"I doubt the postal service would deliver to an imaginary place," Martha added.

"That's Harriet and Hazel for you," Daniel shook his head and refolded the letter.

XXX

Daniel went to town three days later, at the request of Mark Finley and Carolyn and Martha assumed he would be gone for several hours. He and the owner of the _Beacon_ had held many meetings during the time since he had been employed by the newspaper, working out stories, pictures and layouts, and whatnot, so it was with great surprise that Martha and Carolyn saw Daniel return to the house only an hour later. Carolyn opened the door before he could let himself in.

"You're back sooner than we expected. Mark must have given you a light load of assignments this week."

"Too light," Daniel sighed.

Up went Carolyn's eyebrow. "Oh?"

Dejectedly, he replied, "Dear old Dad wants to see Mark take more of a role in the paper, so he's doing more of the writing, which leaves me left in the lurch, rather."

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "Well, based on what I have seen of the younger Finley's writing, THAT shouldn't last long. But you do have some articles to do, yes?"

"Only about half what I would like to have," Daniel went on. "And short fluff stuff at that. Nothing with any meat to it. I can't pay the bills writing the gardening column, the sports page, stories on craft fairs and how to start your own aquatic vegetable garden for Mark."

"Finley Senior'll be sorry," Martha shook her head. "Everyone in town tells me you are the best thing to happen to that paper in years."

"But now you will have more time to spend on your other assignments, and the stories you have started," Carolyn said brightly.

"If only there were enough of them to fill the time," he morosely proclaimed.

"Enough?" Carolyn frowned. "Daniel, you are either researching or writing at least six hours a day. You have tons of things going. I like being creative, and I can proofread, but I can imagine if our roles were reversed and I was the author and you were the ghost. We'd starve. You're a marvelous writer!"

"That does not seem to be the general consensus lately," he grimaced, sitting down on the couch. "I write, and send out, but not that much is coming back in. And certainly no offers of more assignments. I'm not quite sure WHAT has been going on lately. Maybe I'm losing my touch?"

"Maybe the editors are just... taking a long time deciding. I heard once it's good for the accused if the jury is out a long time, maybe it's the same for writers?" Carolyn suggested.

"We can only hope," he almost growled out the words, and looked at his watch. "I need to go upstairs and work. I still have a few unfinished things on my desk. I might as well start plugging away on those since I won't be doing anything for Mark until tomorrow, at least."

"I don't suppose I could con you into a walk while the weather is nice?" Carolyn said, giving him a smile, "It might help clear your head a bit."

For a moment, he looked tempted, then shook his head. "I really need to work."

"All right," she nodded. "But if you start feeling like you need a break, or a sounding board, just call. I can be in the Master Cabin in a moment."

"Thank you, my dear."

An hour later when an invisible Carolyn peeked in on the Captain, without him seeing her, she saw that he was simply staring at the blank sheet of paper waiting in the typewriter. She tugged a tendril of hair on the side of her face thoughtfully and decided not to interrupt him yet. _Perhaps he's just in a thinking mode, not a writing mode. Writers get into those, didn't they? _she pondered. _I'll come back in an hour or so, _her thoughts went on. _Maybe then I'll say something. Or HE will! _

XXX

The rest of the day passed, and the day after and the day after and the week after that and it didn't take a mental genius to feel the ongoing air of tension in the Gregg household. Carolyn noticed that Martha was making even more of her usual efforts to serve healthy, nourishing but cheap meals. Hamburger and noodles were more in abundance — stews, and chicken showed up a good deal, and cheaper cuts of beef. Nobody complained, though Jonathan did give the housekeeper a rather soulful look when she gave the kids their lunches to take to school and for the fifth day in a row he saw that there were no cookies included.

"Maybe tomorrow, Martha?" he asked. "As a treat? It's Friday," he added, putting on his coat.

The housekeeper shook her head. "I was going to do a cake this weekend instead," she admitted.

"With frosting?" Candy inquired.

"Some. Made with powdered sugar and milk — not butter."

"Okay!" they agreed happily, skipping out the door and into the cool morning where Millie Jenkins was waiting, having pulled car pool duty that day.

XXX

About an hour after the children left, the Captain and Carolyn, who were in the Master Bedroom going over some copy, heard a cry through the open French windows.

"Martha!" they exclaimed at the same time. Without prompting, Carolyn popped out; knowing that Daniel was headed in the same direction she was as fast as humanly possible.

They found the housekeeper on the front porch, gingerly holding her wrist. "Blast. Sorry to scare you," she winced. "Forgot that the porch was damp and slick from that little shower last night and I slipped. Caught myself with one arm."

"Let's see that," Daniel frowned. "I think you have a sprain," he declared grimly after a brief inspection. "Possibly a break. I'd better get you to an emergency room. The nearest one's in — Skeldale? Right?"

"Right," Martha answered, and on reflex, started to point with her injured arm. "Owww! Blast!" Her face contorted in pain.

"You need a sling," Carolyn said. "You mustn't move that limb any more than you have to until the doctor takes a look at it." She winked out and was back a moment later with an older looking pillowcase. Moments later she had ripped it up one side and fashioned a rough sling, and Martha's arm was encased inside of it. "Now you get going," she continued. "You do know where the hospital is? I don't... I never had a need to know, but do you need a phonebook to call them for directions? I can go get..."

Martha cut her off. "It's all right, Mrs. Muir. I know where it is — I went with Millie Applegate last week when she had to go see her mother, remember?"

Carolyn nodded. "I do. Silly of me. All right then. How long will you be? I'm no judge of these modern vehicles... all day? I should stay here — do something sensible, like clean house. The kids will get home and you won't..." Martha interrupted again.

"You don't need to do that. The housekeeping will wait, and I have nothing on the stove. Besides, nobody knows you are here. If the Captain and I aren't home, Mrs. Jenkins wouldn't just leave them on the front porch... and you don't have to cook, really. I was planning on leftovers tonight."

Carolyn saw the Captain wince. He hated leftovers, and the necessity of them, but the housekeeper had managed to do some very creative things with them lately.

"I can't just sit here and do nothing — and the kids will..."

Martha shook her head. "It's only nine in the morning. Emergency rooms are never empty, but I would really like it if you come with us. The hospital can't keep me until it is time for the kids to come home at three and if they do, Heaven forbid, as I said, Mrs. Jenkins will keep them for a bit."

Daniel nodded. "Martha's right. This is a weekday — barring national emergencies the ER won't be that busy."

"But what CAN I do?" Carolyn almost wailed.

"Come with me, please?" Martha asked, her face turning a shade whiter. "Hold my hand — I mean, my other hand, so to speak? I don't know whether they will let Mr. Gregg be there for the actual setting of the bone — if it is broken, and you CAN be there — even if nobody sees you but me."

"I'd be honored, Martha," Carolyn said softly.

"We need to get going now," Daniel cut in. "Your arm isn't going to get better by itself."

"Right," Carolyn saluted, and then looked a bit apprehensive.

"What is it, my dear?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, nothing..."

"It is, too, or you wouldn't have that look."

"Well, it's just that..."

"What?"

"I have never traveled so far from Schooner Bay before — on the ground, that is."

"You travel for your convention, or whatever it was," Daniel pointed out, remembering her trip, and the gazebo incident.

"That wasn't on the ground, it was on the ether," she sighed. "All together different. We haven't got time to worry about it now. If you need me to come, Martha, I will."

"I need you to come and I _want_ you to come," Martha responded, her voice tinged with pain. "Now, if I am not being too unreasonable, may we get going, please?"

After making a fast phone call to Millie Jenkin's house, just in case the trip would take all day, they were on their way.

XXX

Fortunately, like Schooner Bay, Skeldale was a relatively small town and did not have as many emergencies as a large, metropolitan area such as Philadelphia would, so Martha did not have to wait too long for someone to see her. Still, by the time her wrist was x-rayed and a resident confirmed that she had a bad sprain, not a break, and she got it properly tended and a prescription filled, the adults barely made it home before the children.

After helping Martha to her room to sleep off the pain medication, the Captain turned his attention to Mrs. Muir. "Are you all right, my dear?" His worried blue eyes searched her face; it had not escaped his notice that she had seemed paler the farther away they got from Schooner Bay.

"I'm not the one who was injured," Carolyn tried to dismiss his concern.

"Carolyn," he intoned firmly, fixing her with the sort of stare he would apply to a wayward child or ensign.

She let out a sigh. "I am getting stronger again, now that we're home. But, yes, it was a strain to make the journey."

"Is there anything I can do to help you recover?" he frowned.

The ghost smiled. "Thank you for asking, but to be honest, I do not know. It's not a problem I have had to consider before. I think that just being here, with you, Martha, and the kids, should cure me relatively quickly. Let's just not mention my — indisposition to Candy and Jonathan — or to Martha. I will not have her feeling guilty asking me to go with you two."

He nodded. "You have a point. As long as you are certain you will be well. I do not believe we could hide it if you were not. Not for long, at least."

"I can feel myself getting better," she promised him truthfully. A teasing light entered her eyes. "Come now, Captain, surely if Martha can have her arm hurt and you can have the Ague, I am entitled to a touch of infirmity?"

"Absolutely... NOT," he growled. "If I had my way, you, Candy, Jonathan, and Martha would all be banned from ever feeling any sort of pain." Scruffy yipped. "Scruffy also," he added.

"You cannot protect us from everything," Carolyn gently reminded him.

Before he could devise a way to dispute that, they heard a car door slam, alerting them to the children's return.

Although Candy and Jonathan were upset that their beloved housekeeper/friend/semi-aunt/grandmother figure was hurt, both of them had sprained their ankles before, so they knew they did not need to worry. They did promise to be quiet and let her rest and to help all they could. Then, they went to their room to do their homework and make her a card.

"Your children have good hearts, Daniel," Carolyn commented as he joined her in the kitchen to see about assembling leftovers into a palatable meal.

"Thank you," he said simply. Now that the crisis was somewhat past and the adrenaline had worn off, staring at the economical fare that had become their standard menu seemed even more depressing.

"What is wrong?" Mrs. Muir asked.

"Nothing. I'm just befuddled by the galley," he bluffed. "This is not a male domain, after all."

"I'll guide you through," she laughed, but her eyes remained concerned. "That's not all of it, Daniel. Now as the kids say, 'give'."

He hesitated, then said in a blustery tone, "I think any man, save perhaps Howard Hughes, would be disconcerted by the prospect of a hospital bill. I've heard they charge an arm and a leg for X-rays and that an aspirin costs at least twice what a whole bottle would."

"I see..." she nodded thoughtfully. "Well, even in my day, doctors weren't cheap. Will they give you time to pay it?"

He shrugged. "Probably. Blast it, Martha is more family than most of the people I am forced to claim as such, but I am not allowed to let her in on the U.S. Navy insurance the children and I benefit from."

"That doesn't seem fair, Daniel. She is family... But I guess you being her employer and insuring her as your employee doesn't count?"

"I'm afraid not — and it wouldn't be worth it to claim the accident under my home owner's policy — the premium is due in a month, by the way! The hospital bill probably won't reach what my deductible is. Blast!"

"I am glad for Martha's sake it wasn't a break, though. It won't be long before she is up and around, and you know I will do everything I can to help her until she is back to fighting fit. And after, for that matter."

"I know that, my dear." He looked at the clock on the wall. "In the meantime, I have written nothing today, and now there's dinner and cleanup, and the children have homework to finish..."

"Daniel, one thing at a time," she advised. "I'm sure the kids will help with the clean up, and as to dinner, it just needs to be re-warmed."

"I should be able to provide more than tuna fish casserole or hamburger and canned green beans for my family," he sighed. "But I suppose tonight it's all I can manage." He paused for a moment.

"What is it, Daniel?"

"I just want to ask you a favor, but I know I shouldn't — it's my responsibility. I'm still Captain of this vessel."

"Hey, this 'vessel' has a willing crew and hearty seamen," she grinned. "Your ship is my ship, and Candy, Jonathan and Martha's, too and we all pull together here. Now, what is it?"

"It's just that... No."

"I won't let you leave this room until you tell me."

"Very well," he sighed. "As I said, I haven't been able to write a thing all day, and I am trying to finish the paltry assignments the senior Finley handed me this week. I was wondering if you could steer your way clear to being on tap if the kids need help with their homework again? I don't know what all it will entail..."

She held up a hand. "Say no more. I'll gladly help them, tonight or any night."

"You truly don't mind? I don't mean to treat you as a built in babysitter-nanny-governess-mother..." He stopped suddenly.

For a moment, Carolyn was silent, then very calmly and seriously, choosing each word with care, replied, "But, Daniel, I always wanted the chance to be that. Thank you for letting me."

"You're welcome," he choked out, and without another word, he made a beeline for the Master Cabin.

As Daniel settled down at the desk, seeking refuge from worry in work, he spied the modest stack of bills that suddenly looked like Mount McKinley. Grimacing, he reached for a fresh sheet of paper, determined to write something that would help whittle it to a molehill. As he did so, his sleeve brushed the pile, causing one to slip so that he could see the address on it. Picking it up, he opened it. It was a short letter from Ryan McNally, reminding him that he had some time open on his schedule if Daniel needed to talk. Ryan McNally. That bill had been a sheer waste of money, he decided. The good doctor had done nothing at all; there had been nothing for him to DO! Reflecting on this, he thought, _Blast it, why can't you be an illusion, a shadow my mind created? It would be so much easier if you were simply a delusion, Carolyn. I never meant to fall — no, I can't have? Can I? _Aloud he muttered, "Impossible. I'd have to be insane." _But... _His thoughts continued. _...Maybe I am..._

XXX

The evening passed quietly. Dinner was consumed and the kids did not make any remarks about leftovers. Jonathan even claimed that meatloaf tasted better after it sat for two days in the refrigerator. Martha ate with the family, but Carolyn shooed her to her room before she could even make a try and washing the few dishes one-handed. The housekeeper protested, but finally agreed, saying she could "darn well run a vacuum one handed," and planned to do so the next morning, ghostly intervention or not. Daniel went back to his room to work, and even over the children's questions about their homework assignments, an hour of TV and then baths, Carolyn could hear the Captain's old Royal typewriter clacking away, punctuated with an occasional "blast" every so often. Nine o'clock and bedtime seemed to come in no time at all and after the children were kissed goodnight and tucked in by both the seaman and the ghost, Daniel went back to work.

At eleven, he showed no signs of stopping, though there had been very little produced, except a full wastebasket. Seeing this, Carolyn popped in. "Daniel, you are still recovering; making yourself ill again won't help anyone."

"I hadn't thought of that. Though I must say, I wouldn't mind having another dream like the one I had when I was sick." He smiled, and then shuddered slightly. "Most of it, that is."

"Dreaming again, Daniel?" she smiled. "Would you care to tell me about it?"

He shook his head. "Maybe sometime, but in the meantime, a man should be allowed SOME fantasies."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. So, I think not."

"I'd settle for a glass of Madeira before you retire and I go on watch."

"That could be arranged," he answered, giving his best effort of a smile, but the light in his blue eyes was still dimmed.

"I'll meet you in the living room," she smiled. "Five minutes, or I'll come looking for you."

"I won't make you look too hard."

XXX

That evening was the first, but not the last time Carolyn wished she could massage away the tension she could see in Daniel's shoulders or simply touch his hand to comfort him. Though, at least initially, nothing else bad happened, nothing good did either. His assignments continued to be sporadic and the bills still came.

After the butcher 'kindly' suggested Martha might want a cheaper cut of meat during her shopping one day, the older woman came home with a troubled look on her face and asked to speak to the Captain.

"What is it, Martha?" he asked tiredly.

"I know things are getting a little bit — that is, that the wolf's at least sniffing at the door," she said uncertainly. "And my clumsiness," she indicated her arm, "did not help a bit. So, I was thinking, I wish you'd deduct the cost of my medical bills from my pay, or not pay me until things get better. I mean, I have room and board, free and clear, here with you and the kids. What more do I need?"

"I won't hear of it," Daniel growled. "It would not be right to not pay you, Martha. I'll manage to keep the wolf outside without you sacrificing."

"Captain Gregg, if you won't agree, I'll be forced to quit," she argued, clearly hating to say it.

For a moment, they glared at each other, and then Daniel frowned. "How about a compromise? I'll deduct — half of the medical bills from your pay."

"The whole thing in installments," she countered. "Unless you win the Irish Sweepstakes, and then we negotiate for a raise."

Daniel mulled it, then nodded. "Fine. I know when I am beaten. Just let me know how you want the — payments — stretched out."

"Thank you, sir. Now, I need to put up the groceries and start the soup cooking." She smiled. "Soup is economical. It can stretch a long way."

When she was gone, Daniel waited a few seconds, then bit out a terse, "Damn."

Carolyn materialized a half-second later. "Good heavens, what has happened? I've never heard you use anything stronger than 'blast.' Are the Darligs, the twins, Vanessa, or all of them coming to visit?"

He almost had to chuckle at that. "That would also be worth a strong expletive, but no. I'm just frustrated, and now, Martha has asked to have her pay cut, or cut off, to help out."

She knew he was a terribly proud man and how this must hurt, but did not know what to say. "It will get better, Daniel."

"When?"

She had no answer.

Despite the grimness of their present circumstances, when April the eighth arrived, the kids, Martha, and Carolyn put together a birthday celebration for Daniel that made him forget his worry, if only for a few hours. He was also delighted with the gifts his old friends sent — a fresh bottle of Madeira from Charles and Lynne Dashire and an attractive dark gray turtleneck sweater from Sean and Molly O'Casey. That same day, he got word that the Fire Commission had approved a new engine for Schooner Bay and that the museum would be taking over Old Seventeen. On the strength of that victory, the Town Council approached him to run for the head position on it. However, much to Claymore's relief, since he was occupying that role, Daniel turned it down because he had not lived there long enough to qualify and because politics just held no appeal to him.

Jonathan and his friend, Billy, did get on the Schooner Bay Oyster's Little League team, and the uniform's cost was another source of tension for Daniel, but he was managing to keep afloat with the little bit of work he could get from the _Beacon _and a handful of other articles that were published. But, the acceptances were few and far between.

Despite the pall of unhappiness in the air at Gull Cottage, the entire family did enjoy the annual Talent Show that Martha and Candy sang in. Martha belted out _Some of These Days _and Candy agreed to sing _Lavender Blue_ with the new boy in town, Mark Helmore, much to Penelope Hassenhammer's dismay and despite the fact that her second best friend, Tris, insisted it was the most idiotic song he had ever heard. Candy had just rolled her eyes and told him that she agreed it was silly, but it was for a good cause. Besides, annoying Penny was always fun.

Then, as April ended, the pipes needed to be fixed and not even Martha's cherry pie bribes to Ed Peavey could make the bill go down much.

XXX

On Saturday morning, the second weekend in May, while Carolyn, Candy, and Jonathan were out fishing and Martha was in town making what she said would be a short run for food and whatnot, the phone rang. Blasting, Daniel picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he started tensely, hoping that none of his creditors were calling. It hadn't happened yet, but it was just a matter of time. "What is it?"

"Don't bite my ear off, Danny. It's I, Charles."

"Sorry, Charlie."

On the other end of the line, Charles Dashire couldn't decide if his old friend was sorry or not. "That's a fine way to greet a dear friend and former shipmate! Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No — not really, How are you? How are Lynne and the baby?"

"Grace is perfect, as is her mother. What about your brood?"

"Oh, quite well. Growing like mad. Jonathan's on the Little League baseball team and Candy was a big hit in the talent show a few weeks ago," he announced proudly. "And Martha is fine, too, now..." he stopped suddenly. The last thing he wanted to do was tell his current misfortunes to one of his oldest friends.

"Drat. Hear I was, hoping that perhaps those two... cousins..." he said the last word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, "...of your late wife's were exaggerating on how dire and dismal your lot in life is. I ran into them at a blood drive some group was giving for the blasted war. Oh, I am not wishing you ill, don't get me wrong. I'm delighted you're happy. But, if you weren't, I'd like to ask you something, and I could hope that you'd do more than politely listen and say no."

"You know you can only half believe anything Hazel and Harriet have to say, Dash," Daniel smiled into the phone. "As for listening to you, I am always willing to do that, and you know it. So what is your question? Are you trying in your not-so-subtle way to steer your way clear to a weekend up here with you and Lynne and your children? You know I'd love to see you, but things around here have been... hectic of late, and..."

"Oh, I would love that, but not before school's out for your kids, so as to cause the least disruption. And, Danny, old son, I DID only take half of what those two said as truth, but even half sounds utterly dismal."

"It's not nearly as bad as I am sure they made it out to be. I was ill, a while back, and it did knock me for a bit of a loop, but I had good nursing. Though, I must say, Lynne and Molly could have offered better advice when Martha called for it!" He smiled, remembering how Carolyn had always seemed to be there, and then shuddered slightly, remembering his nightmares, his interrupted dream and the kiss that he and Carolyn had almost shared.

"I see. And..." Charles paused. "...One hates to ask this over the phone, but you know me, Danny, are you seeing anyone special? Dating? You should, you know, but have you made the step yet?"

There was a long pause, then Daniel said, "None of the women... in town really strike my fancy, to be honest."

"Ha-ha!" he exclaimed. "But I'll bet you strike theirs, eh? You always did have an eye for the ladies and they for you. Why, I remember a time..."

"Charles, surely you didn't just call to talk about my love life, or lack thereof. Tell me about you — or at least explain to me why you are calling me when... don't you normally work for a half a day on Saturday so you can have one morning at home with Grace? Just the two of you? Father-Daughter bonding, you called it."

"Normally I do, Danny, but things have been busy on the work front lately. Calling from there now. I feel like I haven't had time to breathe."

"Oh? But you are calling me when you should be working. What's going on, then?"

"Well, not to boast, mind you, but I have more work than I can handle. Never thought about the company getting this big, and now, to top it all off, Justin Fontenot has announced that he wants to retire, and will be doing so August first. Fontenot and I have worked together for years — even before I started my own company. I may own Dashire Enterprises, but I've learned a lot from him. Him leaving is going to leave a gigantic hole."

"Fontenot would leave a hole, indeed. Good man, that. Does his retirement in any way relate to the matter you wished to discuss with me?"

"Um... yes, now that you mention it," Dashire answered, trying to sound casual. "Danny, old son, I was wondering... Is there any way in the seven seas I could talk you into leaving that blasted cottage of yours and coming to Philadelphia to work for me?"

Part of Daniel Gregg wanted to categorically say "no," but the sensible part that knew he had a family to take care of recognized that this was an opportunity. So, heeding the latter, he casually replied, "Oh, maybe you could. It depends on what you have to offer."

"Really?" The voice on the other end was surprised, to say the least. "I need a right-hand man. Someone who knows the shipping business — someone I wouldn't have to train from the ground up. Another ex-Navy man, like Fontenot. Someone I can count on. That's you, I believe. Daniel, if you say yes, I can guarantee you right now I would pay your moving expenses and find you a good place to stay while you look for another home to buy, and I don't mean you and the kids would be staying in some cheap motel, either. Of course Martha has to come with you — her expenses would be paid as if she were family. I could start looking into schools right now for the kids, if you like — private or public, and your starting salary would be $10,000 a year — with a ten percent raise guaranteed after the first year."

This was too good to be true, but there was so much about Maine Daniel loved, not the least of which was a certain — no, he wouldn't go there. "That's a grand offer, but I don't like to make snap decisions. Could I ask for few days to consider it?"

There was a pause and Daniel wondered if his old friend was looking at a calendar or a watch, and then Charles Dashire started speaking again.

"Look, Danny, I know this is a blasted hard decision to throw at you. I KNOW you love Maine and your home... I'll add in a bonus to compensate you for the loss."

"I'm not sure just money will cover for leaving Gull Cottage," Daniel answered, staring out the window, wondering where the children and Carolyn were, and what kind of a day they were having together.

"Maybe... Maybe if you sell it back, or trade it or something to that fellow you bought it from, you can work out something so that you can rent it every year or so during vacation times? Heck, I bet Lynne would love a seashore vacation. If not that cottage, there's bound to be places you could rent for a vacation, but let's get you working first..."

"Charles, I haven't said I would take the job yet!" Daniel protested. "I need a few days to consider. This is a big step."

Dashire sighed. "I guess that's the least I can do, Daniel. I can give you three days, and then I'll have to start looking elsewhere. You could do a wonderful job here, but the training will take time, and the sands in the hourglass are running quickly."

"I'll let you know by then, I promise," Daniel vowed.

"Fine," Dashire said briskly. "I do hope your answer will be 'yes.' I need a man like you — not to mention it will be great to have you a bit closer at hand. Lynne and I have missed you, you know, and there is your honorary niece — I want her to have the opportunity to really get to know you."

The men exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then the call ended. For a long time, Daniel Gregg stared into space, turning the issue over in his mind.

XXX

The Captain was even quieter than he had become of late that evening, but something about him seemed to tacitly ask everyone to not question him. At church the next day, he was more earnest in his prayers. Though Daniel would readily affirm God was everywhere and could hear you from anywhere, there were times that as a man, he found the peace of a church an easier place from which to formulate his petitions and listen for a response.

When the service ended and the kids were dismissed from Sunday school, Candy and Jonathan made a beeline for their dad.

"Billy wants me to come over to practice baseball, can I? I mean, may I?" Jonathan blurted out.

"And, Jenny, Tris, and I want to have a picnic in his tree house," Candy added. "May I go?"

Daniel thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "As long as you are both careful. No falling out of that tree house, young lady."

"Yay!"

As they ran off to join their friends, Martha said, "I hate to abandon you, sir, but Ed Peavey asked me to go with him to Norrie's..."

"Go on, Martha," Daniel smiled tightly. "I need to do some work. The quiet will be good for that."

Driving home, he silently wrestled with the whole idea of moving again. Martha and Mr. Peavey were a couple it seemed. She would lose that relationship, and his children had very good friends in Billy, Jenny, and Tristan, although there were times he would have liked to box the latter boy's ears over some harmless prank he'd pulled. Then, there was Mrs. Muir.

She met him at the door. "Where are the kids and Martha?"

"Off with friends," he answered.

"Ah. So, did it help?"

"Did what help?" he blinked.

"Did going to church help you solve whatever problem had you tossing and turning every time I looked in on you during the night?"

He hesitated. "I thought it did, but I discovered — contingencies, the more I considered the matter," Daniel confessed. "Blast it. A ship is easier. I don't have to think of people's feelings, just give the order that is right for the good of the country."

Carolyn studied his face, trying to find some clue as to what on Earth he was talking about, but could find no hint of his meaning. Finally, she let out a 'breath' and said, "Daniel, you just said it, on a ship, you would do what is right, objectively. This family is not a ship, but you do still have to choose what is best for us — them."

"Even if it's not easy," he said, not sure if he was asking a question or stating a fact, or some combination of the two.

"Maybe especially then." She hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Not until I've finished talking to myself about it."

"As you wish," she nodded, popping out before he could see the hurt in her eyes.

"I didn't mean..." he began, then closed his eyes. "But, perhaps it's better this way."

If he went through with this, he wouldn't have her to throw ideas around with any longer all too soon.

XXX

Daniel Gregg's long strides soon took him to the shoreline, where he began to walk. The day had turned cloudy, and idly he wondered if it might rain. _Figures, _he thought to himself. _A gray day to match my blasted gray mood. _He took a deep breath.

_**Gregg, you have to stop beating about the bush. Make a decision. Any idiot could tell you what you should do. **_

_But, I hate to cut and run. I'm NO quitter, _the other side of his mind argued stubbornly.

**_You aren't doing that, _**he answered himself_. **You gave it a good go.**_

_But did I do enough? I should stay and stick it out..._

**_That's not good, Daniel. You COULD stay and make yourself miserable if you were all alone in the world,_ **his other self argued.** _But you have your family to consider. You can't deprive them or make them unhappy. They deserve better than what you have been able to offer lately._**

_Blast you, _he seethed, ignoring that it was himself he was blasting, _they are happy! They have friends and they have — Carolyn. This lack of work is not my fault._

**_No, it's not, but you ARE the one who is responsible, my boy, _**his second self answered back. **_No one to share the load with, It is not like when Melanie was alive and she was home with the children when you were away. They're all yours, and you, and you alone, have ultimate responsibility for them. Charles's offer would secure a good income for you and start them toward an even better future. Writing is a risky profession at best. You knew that when you moved here._**

_Perhaps I could budget better?_

**_Blast it, Daniel — you are down to bare bones now, unless you skip a payment on something. You owe on your car; you owe on Gull Cottage. Your life insurance is paid for, courtesy of the United States Navy, but you have car insurance. Martha has already forgone her salary — that can't go on forever. You_ _have gas, electric, water, and food trimmed. Pray, what else can go? The subscription to the Beacon? Fine. That's a whopping three dollars. How can you budget better?_**

Angrily, he picked up a stone from the sandy ground and hurled it into the sea. "We've already lost so much," he murmured.

**_Yes, you have._** His own voice came back at him gently. **_And you shouldn't have to lose any more. But keep this up, and the bank will foreclose on you, and then where will you be?_**

_I'll just have to work harder — get more articles out._

_**You've been doing that, Daniel, and where has it gotten you? You aren't sleeping, you're wearing yourself down, and so many magazines and periodicals haven't given you so much as the courtesy of a response.**_

_The cowards could at least say "no," rather than just ignoring me._

_**Agreed, but they haven't, so there is nothing to be done unless you care to call them all long distance to find out why not and rack up more bills. Daniel, you need to start reconciling the books. Now think. Count. Taking the job means you would be making more money than you ever have in your life. That means a secure future for your children. And think down the line, not just now! College. For both** **Jonathan and Candy. That's not as far away as it sounds. Good clothes. A house that isn't falling down around them.**_

_Gull Cottage is a blasted fine house!_

_**Fine and old — you just replaced the blasted pipes — what's next? That antiquated water heater? The roof? The kitchen is beautiful, but a disaster — hasn't Martha complained about the water pressure? That you can't turn on the garbage disposal and the sprinkler at the same time? Or run the mixer and the television simultaneously? It's beautiful, but not functional. For the mortgage you pay and the repairs you keep having to make, you can get just as good a house in Philadelphia. And think of the schools for the children. They would be better, too.**_

_People are not replaceable. What about Ed Peavey? Or those three children my two adore? Even that wimpy Claymore? What about — _

_**What about Carolyn? That's really what this whole argument with me... yourself is about, isn't it? All right, what about her? She's a ghost. She isn't here and now. She is a spirit — she's of the past. Born and died a hundred years ago. And you...?**_

Daniel refused to answer, opting to stare out at the ocean and try not to think. Some time passed as he watched the clouds shift and the sky grew darker.

_**Daniel Gregg, you can't hide from yourself or your feelings. Admit it now, and run, before it is too late. You love Carolyn Muir. You love this memory from the past as you have never loved your wife. Admit it!**_

An angry breath hissed from between his teeth. _What if I do? She's twice the woman as any I've ever been involved with. And, the children love her like a mother. Melanie was so distant, this may be the first mother they've ever HAD. Blast it._

The other side of his head tisked at him. **_This may be very well and true, Daniel Gregg, but the fact remains, Carolyn Muir cannot be all you wish and want her to be. Your children deserve a woman — a mother they can hug and kiss and you deserve a wife who can be more than a shadow. Carolyn Muir may have taught you what it is like to love, but you cannot love her. She isn't real. She's a phantom — a wraith. You know blasted well all this can lead to is heartache. If not for you, for your children._**

Blast it, he wished that voice belonged to someone ELSE so he could throttle them.

His other self chuckled sadly. **_I know you want to throttle me, but you also know I speak the truth. This day has been coming since Christmas and your dream. If Charles hadn't called you offering you this job, it would have been something else. You know blasted well you need to leave — now — when you are given a good opportunity, to boot. You know this is best, Daniel. Don't get melancholy about it. If_ _you love your children, you know this. Do it for their future and their well being... and do it for yourself._**

The Captain's fingers curled into a fist at his side.

**_Daniel... _**his voice spoke to him softly. **_If you told Carolyn about this, what do you think SHE would wish for you to do?_**

_She'd want the best for me, _he answered back. _She always has. The first night we came here she said if I ever wished to leave, she wouldn't force me to stay._

_**And what is the best decision you could make, for you and your family?**_

_There is more than one kind of "best."_

_**True, but don't you think part of what is right and best for your family includes not watching where each cent goes, a father that has time for his children, one that is not always buried in his room working, and maybe, someday a real mother to love? It certainly doesn't look like that is forthcoming here. Daniel, you owe it to them. Sometimes being a parent — and being a man is about choices — even decisions you don't want to make.**_

_Blast it. It's not fair._

_**Nobody said life was fair. You just have to make the best of it you can. You are being given a great opportunity. You shouldn't lose it. And there is one other thing...**_

_What's that?_

_**Maybe you are holding Carolyn Muir back?**_

_Back? Back from what? Brady? She said they were just friends. He has a — girlfriend, wife, whatever._

_**No — from going into the light.**_

_What?_

_**Think about it. You cleared her name of suicide. Maybe all she is staying for now — what is keeping her from the hereafter — is an obligation she feels toward you?**_

Daniel went still. The words meant to comfort him at Melanie's funeral came back, all about the next world being better, free of pain. He hated to think of this life without Carolyn in it, but he had always believed Heaven to be a better place than here.

"I never thought of that until now," he whispered out loud.

**_I know, but you should, _**came his thoughts. **_Really, if you look at the tally sheet, Daniel, you know what decision you need to make, you just don't want to make it. Taking the job Charles has offered would solve everything. You would secure a good future for you and yours — who knows? Maybe if Martha says she is leaving, Ed Peavey will propose to her. More importantly, Carolyn will understand you are well situated and happy and she can go into the light. You need to think of what is fair for her also, especially if you love her. This is best._**

He was defeated. He knew it. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "Why then, does it feel like the worst?"

A fog was rolling in from the ocean and with a start, Daniel Gregg realized that the hour was late and he had no idea how far he was from... home. Turning on his heel, he headed back toward Gull Cottage.

The rain was coming down in a fine mist by the time Daniel got back to the house, but the front door was locked, as it was when he left, and no one answered his calls, not even Carolyn Muir.

Deciding she was probably off in the ether or perhaps in her gazebo, he fished out his key and let himself inside. After absently patting the dog, he made his way to the Master Cabin. Upon ascertaining its emptiness, he began dialing Charles Dashire's number.

XXX

When he came out of his office, Carolyn was sitting on the floor, rolling a ball for Scruffy to fetch and chase. Daniel watched for a few moments, trying to imprint the ghost on his mind. It would make more sense not to do so, to try and forget, but the thought was too painful.

Sensing that the Captain was in the room, Carolyn looked up, her eyes studying his face. "You look either relieved or more depressed. I cannot tell which." A frown wrinkled her brow. "Daniel? Which is it?"

Before answering, he crossed the room to take a seat near her. "To be honest, I do not know, my dear." Inwardly, he flinched. He should try to break the habit of thinking of her as "dear" or "his."

"Can I help?"

The seaman shook his head. "No, I fear not."

"Would talking it over help you figure out if the news was good or ill?" she probed.

"Perhaps, but I would rather only say it once, so it can wait until Martha and the children come home." He glanced up at the clock. "That should be soon."

Silence fell between them, broken when Daniel hesitantly said, "Carolyn, I always want to do what is — right — what is best for my family."

"Of course, Daniel. That is something you do not need to tell me." She looked genuinely puzzled.

"That family does include you, as well. The choices I make that affect you are ones I feel are for your benefit also." He hoped she understood.

"Yes, I'm sure of that, even though we sometimes get our — wires crossed? I believe that is the term."

He smiled. "Yes, that's the phrase."

Carolyn bit her lip; she could not help but try and divine what was going on in the man's head, but she did not press. She simply chose to trust him, even if there was a chill in her soul. On a visceral level, she just knew something was terribly wrong.

Before too long, they heard doors slamming, announcing that Martha, Candy, and Jonathan were home. The sudden tension that came over the Captain only confirmed the gnawing fear in the spirit's heart.

The children came inside, chattering a mile a minute about their friends as Martha declared she didn't feel like she'd need to eat for at least a day or two. After listening to the rush, Daniel held up a hand. "Would you all come to the living room? I need to tell you something."

Exchanging puzzled looks, they joined Carolyn on the sofa. She gave them a smile that was meant to be comforting and express that she did not know what was going on any more than they did. It would be so nice if she could take their hands in hers.

Standing before them as if he were addressing troops, Daniel began, "You know things have been rough lately." When he received their nods, he went on. "However, I have worked out a solution, with a bit of help. Kids, you like your Uncle Charlie and Aunt Lynne, don't you?"

"They're cool," Candy nodded. "So're Uncle Sean and Aunt Molly. Are they coming to see us?"

"Not exactly. We're going to see them, actually, I believe we're going to be living near them. Justin, Mr. Fontenot, is retiring, and Uncle Charles has offered me his job. The money will be good and we'll be able to get back on our feet." He hesitated, then concluded, "We'll be moving to Philadelphia as soon as school is out."

For a moment there was dead silence in the room, and then Jonathan spoke up.

"You... You mean we're going to leave Schooner Bay? No..." He shook his head fiercely. "We just got here."

"We... we can't leave," Candy joined in. "I don't want to," she added, defiantly, but her blue green eyes started to brim with tears.

"Candy..." Martha started to reprimand her, but the words wouldn't come. She turned back to her boss. "Surely, Captain... there's another way?"

Daniel Gregg shook his head. "I have considered every possibility I can think of. Writing assignments are not coming in, and that means no money filling the coffers either. And I honestly don't think we can pull our belts any tighter. This is a tremendous opportunity. And I have thought about it. I just don't think I can turn it down."

Martha sighed. "Captain, just forget my salary — don't pay me at all until you are doing well again."

"Martha, I'm not paying you now. I can't continue to do that."

"But... but..." Jonathan stuttered. "But what about the Oysters? I get to pitch for the summer league! Mister Muir said so!"

"And Jenny and Tris..." Candy joined in. "We have our club... and Jenny was going to show me how to paint, and I was going to show her..." She broke off as her father shook his head once more.

"I am sure as soon as we are settled I can find a good art class for you, if that's what you want, and Jonathan, I know there are Little League teams in Philadelphia," he added.

"But we can't just up and leave!" Martha protested. "It will take time to pack, and..." She stopped cold as her eyes focused on Carolyn Muir. "We..." She started slowly. "What about the house? What about..."

"I will have to sell Gull Cottage," he said quietly.

Tears were now flowing down the faces of both the children and Martha was close to them herself. "Couldn't you take out a second mortgage, or something?" the housekeeper asked, still glancing at Carolyn, who hadn't said a word.

The Captain shook his head again. "No, not enough equity in the house for that. I was thinking about just turning the whole matter over to Claymore..." His voice trailed away as he, too, glanced at his dear ghost.

"NO!" Candy stood and stomped her foot. "We can't go! Everything is here! What about Mrs. Muir? We can't just leave her here all alone!"

A feeble, tiny smile quivered on the ghost's lips as she forced herself to say, "I — I will miss you, but I have been worried. This is — for the best, really. Knowing you are all well will make me — happy."

"No..." Jonathan shook his head and inched nearer the ghost. "I could get a job — after school. Ollie Wilkins said he needed an errand boy. I was going to ask you about it... really, Dad."

Daniel shook his head again. "Jonathan, what you MIGHT be able to bring in wouldn't make a difference, in the ultimate scheme of things. But I appreciate the thought..."

"Oh." Jonathan paused and looked over at the ghost. "Mrs. Muir, you're just saying moving is for the best is so we won't feel bad! I know!" A thought struck him and for a moment his face was bright again. "You could come with us!"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Martha exclaimed. "Have you ever been to Philadelphia, Mrs. Muir? It could be a change for you, too. You told me once you wished that you had been given the opportunity to travel more."

Carolyn glanced at the Captain again. He met her gaze, then tacitly handed that decision to her. She closed her eyes and gathered her strength before answering the boy. "I wish I could, Jonathan, Candy, Martha, but — it's not possible. I have discovered that when I go too far from home, I start to lose strength. As far away as Philadelphia would be — I would hardly be me. I might not even be able to manifest at all."

"You mean..." Candy answered slowly. "That if you leave Schooner Bay, you could... die?"

"In a manner of speaking. I am already dead, but — I still exist. I'm not sure I could continue to exist."

The little girl bit her lip. "Then you can't come with us. We don't want to make you sick."

"You might be able to come back and visit sometime," Carolyn said, trying to muster up something positive to say.

Jonathan shook his head. "People always say that, but it never happens. Like Kyle and Conner saying they would write to me when we left Philadelphia. They never did. And we can't call you."

"Except in our hearts," Martha whispered, a tear now trickling down her cheek. She glanced at her employer again. "Surely sir, surely there is something you missed? Perhaps we can sell something — or I could call my sister, and..."

Though she hated the idea of parting with a treasure, Carolyn found herself saying, "There's the silver set, or — the clock — that we could sell?"

"No. Perhaps that would work as a stopgap measure, but that would run out, then what? I cannot count on Charles having a job for me if I wait. Face it..." Daniel shrugged. "I have come to the conclusion I am not the writer I thought I was."

"But you ARE!" came all four voices back to him, punctuated by a bark from Scruffy.

"No, I'm not. I'll tell you now, though I was hoping I wouldn't have to. I've been sending articles out — not just the ones I have been assigned, but others, on spec, and not a nibble. I've also sent some sample chapters of my memoirs of the years I was in the service out. Granted, I'm not John F. Kennedy, but I did have an interesting career. I thought maybe there was a chance at that... Sean always said I should give it a go, but nothing. Not even the courtesy of a response. Most people couldn't even be bothered to send my manuscripts back. They have probably been tossed out with the other rubbish..." He swallowed hard. "Charles values my experience and my knowledge. I need to accept that job while I can and face the facts."

"But... leave here?" Candy asked again. "We can't leave! We can't!"

"Dear girl, if there was another way, I would agree with you, but we must do what we must do," he said gently. "I AM sorry."

"No, you aren't! No, you aren't!" the little girl cried. "If you were, you would figure out something else to do! Mrs. Muir... Make him stay. We have to stay!" With a sob, she ran to the rocker, sat down on Martha's ample lap and buried her head on the housekeeper's chest.

"You've always told us we shouldn't give up our dreams," Jonathan said, still sitting on the couch with Carolyn. "When I wasn't doing well at baseball, you said as long as I wanted to play, I shouldn't quit, and I didn't, but you're giving up! We don't have to do this at all! I don't want to leave here! I love it here and I love _everyone_ here!" He gave the ghost a longing look, and Carolyn gave him one in return.

"Jonathan, you'll make new friends..." Daniel began.

"Not like the ones we have. And NOT like Mrs. Muir!" he cried.

"No, son. Not like Ca... Mrs. Muir, but you wouldn't want all your friends... all the people you lo... care about to be the same, now would you?"

"No... But you don't care! You just don't care! I h..." Breaking off, the little boy stood and started to run from the room, but the Captain caught him.

"Jonathan! That will be enough!"

"Everyone I love has to leave..." he sobbed. "Everyone!"

With his heart clearly breaking, Daniel held onto the boy. "I know it seems like that, but you still have Martha, Candy, Scruffy, and me. And you'll have yours and Candy's godparents and their children there. Your — grandparents will be closer, too."

"I don't WANT them," Candy's tears started to fall again, and she stood to join her brother. "Not if it means leaving Mrs. Muir. We HAVE to stay here!"

"Candy..." Carolyn started. "...Jonathan, you have to stop this. You are worrying on my account..." she continued slowly. "I've been alone before. I can be alone again."

"You're just saying that," the little girl sniffed.

Carolyn shook her head. "No. I was alone for a hundred years and quite used to it. I'm sure that I will adjust again." She knew she should make some flip remark about it being a relief to be rid of them or it being nice to have peace again, but she just could not lie that greatly.

"You're just saying that! You're just saying that! You'll miss us! I know you will!" she cried, and ran toward the stairs. This time, neither ghost nor humans tried to stop her.

"Let me go!" Jonathan chimed in. "Leave me alone!"

When his father loosened his hold, the boy ran to join his sister, Scruffy joining them and soon all of them were upstairs, the door of the nursery slamming in a matter of seconds.

"I... don't know quite what else to say, Captain," Martha sighed. "Except of course I am coming with you. Philadelphia or here, you folks would starve without me. I guess I better go call Ed and give him the news. I think I'll use the phone in the kitchen. Excuse me." Without waiting for his answer, she had gotten up and left the room.

Daniel turned to Carolyn. "I truly had no alternative, not one where the children and I could survive. Are you certain you cannot come along?"

"I don't think so," she sighed. "I was weak for two days after that visit to Skeldale. Besides..." she added gently. "What would I do in Philadelphia? Your life — my existence would be a completely different one than here. You'll make new friends, renew old ones... real friendships. I'd just be a curiosity there."

"You would never be that to me," he growled. "Nor to the children or Martha. And I KNOW Charles, Lynne, Molly, and Sean would love you, too."

"Maybe so, but after a while, you will develop new interests — maybe even..." she choked. "...Meet someone you can marry. Someone who can be a real wife to you and mother to your children... I can't be that, not there, or here. You need to make a choice, Daniel, you've chosen life, and that is at it should be. And sometimes life is not all about doing what you want to do but what you _have_ to do. I understand."

"Do you?" he asked softly. "Do you know how difficult a decision this has been for me? But I have to think of the kids..."

"And yourself?" she queried softly. "I know, Daniel, and I do understand." Carolyn drew a shuddering breath. "So you'll be leaving me... I mean, Gull Cottage in about three weeks then?"

"About that. I think." He glanced toward the stairs. "I didn't think the children would react so violently about this. I thought they would understand that this is the only decision I could make."

"They do, Daniel. They love you. They'll come around. They adjusted to here, didn't they?"

"Yes, but this place has an added charm that no other home does." _Blast. I shouldn't have said that._

She smiled. "Thank you, Daniel. Try not to worry. They just need time."

He gave the ghost a wry grin. "Maybe, but so do I, I do believe."

"I know."

"So... tell me. I... we... I suppose you will want to spend as much time as you can with us until we leave?"

Carolyn shook her head. "Rather the opposite, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I think — no, I know, that the best thing to ease this transition is distance, Daniel. I need to start pulling away from you... the children... even Martha and Scruffy. You know that old saying about absence making the heart grow fonder? It isn't true, you know. I'll just start fading into the background a bit. Withdrawing. Finding other things to do than spend time with them. Three weeks... they'll think of me more of an attraction they have grown tired of, and will be more apt to be willing to say goodbye."

"Carolyn, that doesn't seem fair... that's like... like you are saying goodbye now."

"Not exactly." She gave him another tight smile. "I'll be here, just not so much HERE, if you follow me. I can't leave this place, remember?"

"Yes, but still..."

"Daniel, please stop!" she cried. "Can't you see I am trying to make this easier for you? I told you the first night we met that if you ever wanted to leave Gull Cottage, I wouldn't be able to stop you! Now for heaven's sake I am trying to keep my word — You know what is best for you — So do I! So let me do it! Now, go! Please! I'll try not to bother you too much!"

"Carolyn, this doesn't..."

"No, it isn't, but it is the only way..." she said, starting to fade. "I suppose we should start with me not helping you tuck in the children. I believe you will find that they have fallen asleep in their beds. I know it's early, but let them sleep. I believe it would be better if I were absent from that tonight."

She faded out completely then. Knowing, sensing and feeling Carolyn was really gone, at least for the evening, Daniel headed for the nursery, and his children.

XXX

Both Candy and Jonathan were asleep, each facing the wall, when he stepped into the nursery. _Or perhaps they are playing possum, _he reflected, and did not want to speak to him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Daniel adjusted the covers over his children, bending to kiss their cheeks. They stirred slightly, but did not rouse. He did not blame them; he wasn't much in the mood to speak to himself, either.

As he re-entered the living room, Martha was there. "I'm going to turn in, Captain, if you don't need me any more tonight. Packing's hard work, so I'll want to be well rested to get started on it tomorrow."

"Of course, Martha," he nodded glumly. "I'll probably head up to bed myself, soon."

"Good night, then."

He was fairly sure he returned the good wish, but could not be certain. Absently, he flicked on the television, but the only channel he could get to come in was showing _Blithe Spirit_. He knew blasted well that the only spirit in this house was far from blithe, and his 'spirits' were not much better off, especially when considering the fact that his initial response to finding the movie was to call for Carolyn to come watch it. Then, he remembered that she was withdrawing from his family, so would not want to. He tried to cheer himself that soon, he would not have to fight with the television to get reception, but that thought did not help, either.

He then tried to read, but it was pointless. He turned pages, but if asked could not have told anyone what he had just read.

Daniel wondered if it was some minor form of heresy that he was grieving Carolyn more than he had Melanie, but that 'helpful' voice that had plagued him earlier did not comment. Finally, feeling lonely and heartsick, he went to bed where he stared at the ceiling for a long time before falling into a somewhat trance-like state that only aped slumber.

XXX

Not long after Sunday turned into Monday, Jonathan called out in the dark. "You asleep?"

There was a pause, and then Candy sighed, "Nope. I can't."

"Me either. I don't want to go."

"Same here, double," Candy agreed morosely, sitting up in bed to look across the room at her brother. "I can't believe Dad's doing this to us and to Mrs. Muir. We'll still have each other, Martha, and Scruffy." She hesitated, and then added, "And Dad. But, she's not gonna have anyone."

"What about Claymore Muir?"

"He's okay, but..." Her voice trailed off. "But, maybe she doesn't really like people. She didn't tuck us in tonight."

"We were asleep," Jonathan pointed out.

"I wasn't. Were you?"

"No-o-o. But maybe she's too sad. Like she was after the gazebo thing happened. Or when Miss Blair visited?"

Candy considered. "Yeah. I've noticed when she's upset, she goes off by herself. I wish we could stay here. She could take care of us, or Martha could marry Mr. Peavey and we could live with them and visit here. Maybe Mrs. Muir would let them live at Gull Cottage?"

"Dad wouldn't let us stay," Jonathan countered. "Blast."

"Double blast." Candy punched her pillow. "We have school tomorrow. We should be asleep..." Her face puckered up. "I don't know how I am going to tell Jenny and Tris."

"And what'll I tell Billy? Or Claymore Muir? He's counting on me to pitch! I bet Mr. Peavey's not happy, either," Jonathan pointed out. "No more cherry pie."

"Yeah," Candy nodded. "'Course, like I said, he could ask Martha to marry him... then SHE might stay here and be company for Mrs. Muir."

Jonathan shook his head. "No, that won't happen, I don't think Mister Peavey likes ghosts. You know how jittery he gets when he comes out here."

"Yeah, but I think Martha will feel she has to come with us. Besides, she hasn't been dating Mister Peavey that long," Candy said mournfully. "So we are leaving Mrs. Muir all alone!"

"Blast," Jonathan said again.

"Uh-huh," Candy gave a little yawn. "We should try to go to sleep, Jonathan. Dad'll hear us talking, and then we'll be in trouble."

"I don't think I can," Jonathan said sadly. "Every time I close my eyes, I think about Mrs. Muir wandering all over this empty house, all alone and looking like you do when you are about to cry, and then I wake up again."

"We could try counting back from a thousand," Candy said. "That's what they made me do when I had my tonsils out."

"I don't think I can count that high, going forwards," Jonathan protested.

"How far CAN you count to?"

"A hundred, I think," Jonathan answered after thinking about it for a moment.

"Then it's easy to count backwards from a thousand," his sister answered. "I'll help you," The two let out a gusty sigh, when, as one, they lay back in their beds. "One thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine, nine hundred and ninety-eight, nine hundred and ninety-seven..." Candy started.

"...Nine hundred and ninety-six," Jonathan chimed in. "Okay, I get it..."

By the time they reached eight hundred, both children had dropped off into an uneasy sleep.

XXX

Candy didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she found herself waking when Jonathan cried out.

"No!" the child cried, tears flowing down his face, even in sleep. "No! No!" With a jump, Jonathan sat upright in his bed.

Deciding it would do no good to try and rest, Candy shoved her covers back so she could get out of bed, and then padded across the floor to where he slept. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Candy!" Jonathan stared at her from his place, and shuddered. "I was having a bad dream..."

"I know that," she whispered, sitting down at the end of her brother's bed. "What did you dream?"

"It's kinda fuzzy, but I think we were in Philly, only we were invisible, but no one cared. And, Mrs. Muir was so lonely that she tried to visit us, but she couldn't see us either and then just faded into not being there anymore. And she was really gone... not gone like when she just pops out."

"Wow..." Candy said in awe. "That's almost what I dreamed! I only woke up a few minutes before you did. I dreamed that we drove away with the moving van and Mrs. Muir waved to us and then she started fading away, and just as we got to the turn onto Bay Road, I looked back at the house and all there was, was a puddle on the ground where she had been standing." She bit her lip. "We can't let that happen! We just can't!"

"No, we can't," Jonathan agreed, nodding his head. Then he hopped out of his bed and reached under it, pulling out a small suitcase.

"What are you DOING?" Candy asked, shocked.

"I am NOT going back to Philadelphia," Jonathan said, sticking out his lower jaw, and tugging his ear. Looking very much like his father, all of a sudden. "Candy, I have it all figured out. I'm gonna run away."

Gape-mouthed, Candy took a moment to recover, but when she did, the little girl was all questions. "What? Where to? I mean, you'll still be gone from Gull Cottage, either way. So — oh, blast." She could tell from her brother's expression that he wasn't going to give up. "I'd better go along. Someone has to take care of you."

"You don't hafta," the little boy shook his head. "I got it all worked out. I'm going down to the beach. I'll hide in a sea cave Billy and me found a couple of weeks ago. And I'm gonna bring my fishing pole. I can catch fish and eat them when I get hungry. Then after Dad stops looking for me, and moves away, I'll come back to Gull Cottage and keep Mrs. Muir company and help her haunt."

"Do you think he'd really give up on us?" The thought was clearly troubling. "Still, I don't want to go back to Philly, either, so I'm going with you."

"He's giving up on writing and leaving Mrs. Muir," Jonathan pointed out. "But you don't have to come with me."

"I WANT to," Candy insisted, going over to her bed and pulling a similar suitcase out from under it. "Besides, you don't know how to cook and you can't use matches, so I have to come with you."

The boy thought it over and shrugged. "Okay, but you can't boss me around, just 'cause you're older."

"Deal," Candy said solemnly. "We better get moving. It will be morning soon, and Martha will be calling us for school."

"Not for a couple of hours," Her brother pointed out, looking at the clock. "It's just four thirty. I'll be an hour and a half before Martha comes to wake us up."

"But, we need to get a good head start," Candy insisted. "And we can't go really fast because it's too dark to see good."

"You're right," Jonathan agreed. "And I don't think we better take a flashlight. Somebody might see it."

"Maybe just our mini ones we got for Christmas?" Candy suggested. "They give off a little light and from a distance they look like fireflies, or something."

"Maybe," her brother said. "But I don't know if there are fireflies in Maine. I've never seen any."

"All right. If we are going to go, we better hurry up," Candy scolded.

"Right," he nodded and resumed shoving things into his suitcase.

XXX

It wasn't long before Candy and Jonathan had their most important possessions packed. Candy had included, among other things, one change of clothes, her favorite snow globe, an extra pair of shoes, and her copy of _Charlotte's Web._ Jonathan managed to stuff two pairs of his favorite jeans, his baseball glove and ball, another pair of canvas tennis shoes, and his fishing lures.

"All set?" Candy asked. "We better move it."

"Wait! We need Scruffy's leash. He doesn't want to go to Philadelphia either," Jonathan gasped.

"Blast! I forgot!" Candy shook her head. She looked around. "There's the leash..." She pointed to it, lying on the window seat. "Scruffy's sleeping in the kitchen, in his dog bed. We gotta stay real quiet when we go down there to get him, or we'll wake up Martha."

"Or Scruffy will," Jonathan observed.

"Right. And maybe we'd better take some food, too?" Candy asked. "We can't eat fish all the time."

"I guess so," Jonathan said, nodding his head. "Martha made sticky buns yesterday. We should take some of those."

"I was thinking maybe more like regular bread, and peanut butter and jelly," Candy said, practically.

"Okay, but we need to go now," her brother answered.

Grabbing their respective suitcases and their fishing poles, the two headed for the downstairs. All was quiet, with not even a ghost stirring, as they slipped into the kitchen, woke Scruffy, who miraculously did NOT bark at his master's arrival, and rapidly collected supplies; peanut butter, a package of Pop Tarts, crackers, bread, a couple of sodas, and as much dog kibble as they could get in a sandwich bag for Scruffy.

Now prepared to face the world, the three young fugitives-to-be squared their shoulders, took a last look around, and marched into the night.

XXX

Up in the attic, Carolyn was wishing that she were not a ghost, for a variety of reasons. If she weren't a ghost, then she and Daniel would have a chance at a real relationship. She could also try to get work and help pay the bills so they could stay; though THAT would certainly tweak his blasted male pride! Moreover, if she were not a ghost, she wouldn't be wishing that she could cry. She could actually do it. It would be such a relief to be able to let the tears that were in her heart leak out. But, if she were not a ghost, it was doubtful that she would have ever met the family. She would not have been there, that was all.

These last few hours had been the loneliest of her life, or afterlife, as the case might be. It had been easier to be alone before, but with the long years without the Greggs stretching out before her, Carolyn felt emotionally ill. _How would she bear it?_ She almost wished they had never come, so she would not know what it meant to be happy. _But, no. It WAS better to love and lose than never love at all. Probably, anyway. _Yet, she did wonder if she was wrong about separating herself from the family._ Maybe she should be laying up moments to treasure?_

The debate in her head raged on until the wee hours of morning. Finally, she decided to go and just take a small peek at the children as they slept. She would remain invisible. They would not know she was there.

As she popped into the room, she realized instantly that something was wrong. Candy and Jonathan were gone! That was impossible. Surely she had not lingered in her sulking so long that they had moved away without her noticing? Time could not get away from one that badly!

In a panic, Carolyn willed herself to the widow's-walk. As she peered down, the ghost caught sight of the two children and their puppy picking their way across the yard. In a split second, she had materialized in front of them.

"Candy! Jonathan!" she cried, gazing from their startled and guilty faces to the suitcases, bags and poles they were carrying. "What on Earth do you think you are doing?"

Candy looked at Jonathan, and Jonathan looked at Candy.

"You tell her, Jonathan, it was your idea," Candy mumbled, looking down at the flagstone walk as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.

"No, you... You're older," Jonathan answered, also looking at the ground.

"You wanted to do it... I was just keeping you company," Candy hissed back.

"We were leaving," Jonathan blurted out, finally looking up at the ghost.

"Leaving? Leaving for where?" Carolyn asked, bewildered.

"We were going to go hide," Candy replied, her lip trembling. "We don't want to go to Philadelphia. Not without you."

"We wanna stay at Gull Cottage with you," Jonathan went on. "We figured we would hide until Daddy stopped looking for us and moved back to Philly to take that dumb old job, and then we would live with you and keep you company."

"Yeah, so you wouldn't fade away into a puddle," Candy went on. "Besides, we don't wanna go. We love YOU, and we want to stay here with you, and that's all!" Suddenly tears were streaming down both children's cheeks.

"Fade into a puddle? I don't understand," Carolyn shook her head. "But, it does not matter. I — you need a parent who can take care of you, not a — ghost. As much as I care for you, that's all I am. And your father loves you both so much. Losing you would break his heart."

"I don't care!" Candy cried. "If we go, it will break MY heart!"

"Mine, too, double!" Jonathan practically shouted, not to be outdone. "We _can't_ leave!"

Carolyn swallowed. She had seldom, if ever, felt so loved as now, but that was precisely why she had to refuse their completely impractical pleas. "But you have to. You have lives to live, and mine is over. Perhaps it won't be so horrible as you imagine. Your father's friends sound wonderful, and there's a new baby to see, I hear? In addition to that, Philadelphia is a huge city, not a tiny town. You'll get to see newer movies and have more choices about what to do. Your family is there, and I bet you'll live in a house that's not always needing repairs. You might even—" She broke off, biting her lip. "I bet the ladies there are much more... marriageable than the ones in Schooner Bay. You might get a new mama."

"I don't want to see my family there, I don't want a big city, and I don't want a perfect house," Jonathan cut in.

"And I don't care about new movies," Candy interrupted him. "And I'll miss seeing a baby, but I'll miss you more than any old baby, and I don't want a new mom! I only want... you."

"Me, too..." Jonathan nodded. "What Candy said."

So absorbed in the drama of the moment were the trio that not a one of them saw that Daniel was standing out on the front balcony above them, clad only in his pajama bottoms, listening intently. His night had been at least as restless as that of his children. When the angst had finally driven him to get out of bed and look outside, he had seen Candy and Jonathan skulking out of the house, only to be stopped by Carolyn. Without stopping to think, he crawled over the balcony railing, and descended the trellis down to the ground.

"Dad!" Candy gasped. "What are you...? When did you...?"

"I saw you both as you were leaving the house. Now what is the meaning of this, as if I didn't know?"

"We were leaving," Jonathan sighed. "It was my idea... Sir."

Daniel winced. Neither of his children had called him "Sir" in ages, and he liked it that way.

"Jonathan had the idea, but I didn't stop him," Candy confessed. "We thought... that is, we figured we would go hide in the beach caves until you left to go take that job with Uncle Dash, and then we would stay here and keep Mrs. Muir company."

"Yeah," Jonathan nodded. "Dad... Daddy... We don't want to leave here. Ever!"

Kneeling on the ground, he addressed all three. "Nor do I, but children, as much as I hate it, I have failed here, and must move on so I can provide for you. Please, try to understand." He paused, then added fiercely, "I would NEVER leave you two behind. I imagine what would happen is BOTH your uncles would show up to help me find you."

"Not to mention Claymore and the rest of Schooner Bay," Martha called from the porch. "And me. Children, what has gotten into you?" she continued, now near the other four.

"I'll try to run away again," Candy said fiercely. "If you are going to leave her behind. I want to stay here. Mrs. Muir is a part of the family. Daddy, you said you wouldn't leave your family, but Mrs. Muir is family, and you're leaving her. So you can leave me, too."

"Stop!" Carolyn cried. "Candy, I won't have you talking this way to your father. He only wants what is best for you!"

"But moving isn't best!" Jonathan cried. "It's worst!"

"Right," Candy shook her head. "Not best for me..."

"Or me," Jonathan chimed in.

"But it is for your father," Carolyn admonished, looking from the children's teary blue eyes to Daniel's. Unable to bear the loss and conflict she saw mirrored in them, she burst out, "Oh, blast it all! Maybe I'll fade to nothing but a wisp of a shade, but I'll — I'll try and come with you."

"But, that will kill you!" Martha protested.

"My dear, you cannot," Daniel shook his head. "I will not be the agent of your demise. As much as I will miss you, I would rather know you are still here, in some form."

"Better gone than to live with the loss of my heart," Carolyn whispered.

"Darling, you mustn't," Daniel started. _"I love you._ I won't let you do this!"

"You... You _love_ me?" Carolyn stuttered. One single, solitary tear slid down her cheek, dropped, and fell on Jonathan's arm.

"Don't cry, Carolyn!" Daniel exclaimed, ignoring the fact that he was weepy himself.

"I didn't know ghosts COULD cry," Martha frowned.

By now, more tears had joined the first. "Nor did I," Carolyn swallowed.

"Darling, don't..." Daniel protested. Reflexively, he reached out to her and brushed her tears away with his fingertips.

"I didn't mean to," she croaked. "I'll just miss you all so much... I can't help it."

"Hey..." Candy and Jonathan said together. "How come you can touch Mrs. Muir, Dad?"

"I don't know," he answered, stunned. "I..." Slowly and carefully, he put his big hand around her slim waist and drew her to him. "Carolyn... I CAN touch you!"

"Does that mean we can, too?" Candy whispered. Not waiting for an answer, the girl took the few steps separating her from Carolyn and threw her arms around her waist, hugging her for all she was worth.

"Me, too! Me, too! Candy, you hog EVERYTHING!" Jonathan cried, tackling the now very solid ghost from her other side, and on the ground, Scruffy was barking like mad, in between sniffs and licks at Carolyn's ankles, and playing in her long skirts. Even Martha had come over and tentatively reached over the two kids' heads to gingerly touch Mrs. Muir.

"You feel real!" the woman gasped. "Warm and real! Just like an ordinary human!"

"You feel real, too..." Carolyn said, dazed. It was so good to experience all those she loved being able to touch her at last! "But I don't understand... I don't even think I... just a moment, please..." Closing her eyes and concentrating, she tried to dematerialize, but nothing happened. "Daniel... she gazed up into the seaman's eyes. I... I don't think I am a ghost anymore... but I don't feel sick or weak... all I feel is wonderful! What has happened to me?"

"I don't know..." Daniel shook his head. "You — were you a ghost when you came down here to stop Candy and Jonathan?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I know I was, until I... until you... until I started crying."

"Just like Kim Novak in that witch movie," Martha nodded. "When she cried, she knew, even her cat knew, she was mortal."

"You know that movie, too?" Carolyn choked out, hugging Jonathan and Candy close once more. "Claymore and I watched it on Thanksgiving, when Vanessa was here."

"He told me you spent the evening with him," Daniel said sadly. "I feel like an idiot chasing you away from your own home on your..."

"Shh, love..." Letting go of Candy for a moment, she laid a soft finger on Daniel's lips. "It's all right. I understand, and it is forgotten. I just don't understand what has MADE me human! Somehow I don't think I am going to change back... It's... it's a miracle!"

Brushing away her precious tears, she said, "Now, I can go with you — anywhere!" She blushed. "If you want me to."

"Do I want..." Daniel sputtered.. "Why, my dear, it is my fondest wish never to be separated from you again. When I think of what you were willing to sacrifice... your home, your very existence, just to be with me... with us... I... I... Do you have to ask?"

"Well, it is nice to hear the words."

As dawn spilled light over the little group, an old pick-up truck rattled up the road. In the front seat, Mr. Gene Reynolds frowned. _What on earth were the Greggs and that woman in the old-fashioned dress doing standing out on the lawn before daybreak, carrying on like that? _He pulled to a stop and got out to fetch their milk order of the day. He tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully, and then grabbed a large envelope sitting beside him in the passenger's seat. "Might as well get THIS out of the way, too," he muttered, getting out of the car and starting toward the little group.

"Good MORNING, Mr. Reynolds!" Martha caroled at him. "How wonderful to see you! We need milk, that's all..." she continued. "Uh, I think we can get you a check next week..."

"Fine... fine... no problem at all..." Gene Reynolds said agreeably, rather to the housekeeper's surprise. They were a bit behind with the bill, after all. "Actually, I was thinking about just not charging you for last month, by way of apology, you see..."

"Apology? What apology?" Daniel asked curiously.

Looking utterly abashed, the man ducked his head as he extended a packet of envelopes. "Y'see, I also handle the mail, part time, and sometimes, I also get the job of babysitting my grandson. He's just five and wants to do everything I do. He decided he wanted to play post office — er — not the grown-up version, but _really _play post office. So, he took some of the mail coming in and sorted it in HIS playhouse. I never knew so much was missing, until his grandma found where it was hidden. You got a lot more mail than I delivered to ya, Mr. Gregg. And I'm sorry. Hope it wasn't anything too important," he added, extending the large envelope in his hand.

"Too..." Daniel grabbed the packet and started sifting through it. "Carolyn... Martha... Kids! The responses... the ones I have been waiting for... on my articles..."

"And your stories?" Martha's face split into a wide grin, anticipating her employer's next words.

"Yes..." he blinked, almost not believing what he was reading. "Here's one from _Redbook_... the one I did about old cottages... and here's one from _LIFE_ — the article I wrote about lighthouses... and here's another check... and another... and another... And here's one for a story I wrote on spec about legendary ghosts in the Maine area..." He grinned at Carolyn. "This is marvelous... there are at least ten acceptance letters for stories here... and at least that many checks — including one from the _Boston Globe... _And here's a letter from _Random House! _And _Bantam! _They both want to talk to me about my memoirs! I'm NOT a failure!" He turned to Gene Reynolds. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Then you aren't angry?" the older man asked, looking relieved. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that, Mr. Gregg, and really, I am sorry. Kids. If I wasn't so embarrassed, I'd be flattered that little Joey wants to be like his gramps."

"Children do confoundedly odd things at times," Daniel smiled, looking at his two runaways. Reaching out with one hand, he ruffled their blonde heads.

Gene Reynolds sighed in relief. "Thank YOU! Now let me go get your milk — and I'll throw in some butter and cottage cheese this week, too, all right?" He sighed. "I certainly hope the other folks are as nice about their missing mail as you have been."

"Anything... anything..." Daniel sighed happily, and put his arm — the one not holding the precious package of mail — back around Carolyn's waist.

After the milkman/postman had rattled his way back up the road, Candy and Jonathan turned and looked up at their father.

"Dad?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, son?"

"The letters and stuff..."

"Yes, Jonathan?"

"Does this mean we're rich now?"

Captain Gregg considered the question. "I need to finish looking through them, Jonathan, But no... I don't think we're rich... Just much better off then we were, say... Yesterday."

"Yeah, but..."

"Yes?" Carolyn asked kindly, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"Well it's just that..."

"Does this mean we don't have to move now?" Candy cut in. "If you have money again, can we please stay in Schooner Bay? I love it here, and I don't want to leave."

"And it's even better now that Mrs. Muir is human," Jonathan added. "We get a house we love and... And..."

"And a mom?" Daniel finished, glancing toward Carolyn.

"Yeah!" They both shouted, and Martha nodded her approval.

"I'd say that depends on the lady," Daniel Gregg answered slowly, and he handed the package of letters to Candy and slid down on one knee, facing the former ghost. "Carolyn Marie Williams Muir... I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?"

"I'd love to," she choked out. "But, Daniel — I may be human, but I don't have any identity! We didn't even have birth certificates when I was born. I'm not sure we can, legally."

That statement made Daniel falter for only a split second. Then, grinning he asked, "If I can solve that problem, will you marry me?"

"Of course."

"Then, consider yourself engaged," he nodded. "As it happens, Charles' brother-in-law is a fantastic lawyer and I have no doubt that he can construct an identity for you that will allow you to do anything at all."

"Charles! Oh my word, will he be angry if you don't go to work for him?" Carolyn fretted.

Still beaming, Daniel shook his head. "He's a born romantic. He'll be delighted, and I imagine he can find someone to take that position with no trouble. If he can't, well, we'll work something out. Now, his family and the O'Caseys will absolutely have to come and visit. There's no reason for them not to. And, they'd never forgive us if we married without them." He kissed her again. "Any more concerns, my dear?"

She shook her head. "Not a one."

"I don't even care that CLAYMORE will be MY nephew, now!" Daniel chuckled. "I can't wait to hear what he has to say about all this!"

There were more cheers, and then Martha thoughtfully remarked, "You know, I think my grandmother told me a long time ago that if you love someone enough to give up everything for them, then miracles can happen, and you wind up gaining everything."

"That's almost exactly what the note from Mrs. Muir's — MOM'S — mother said! The one in the clock!" Candy exclaimed. "Remember? The note said: _'When comes the time that you find love, you must lose it to win. Do not despair; miracles come when you seem lost._' And that's what happened! Now we know what your mother was trying to tell you! I don't know HOW she knew, but she sure did!"

"That's right!" Carolyn gasped. "This truly is a miracle. It's..."

"...A dream come true," the Daniel Gregg finished. "My darling, Carolyn, you've turned our lives..." He turned and gazed at his joyous family, and then back into her beautiful green eyes. "...Into the best of all possible dreams come true."

The End


End file.
